


Accidents of Power

by sauron496



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek - Various Authors, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Trek: Voyager, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Crossover Pairings, F/F, F/M, Space Battles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-19
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-11-02 09:15:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 37
Words: 86,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20696276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sauron496/pseuds/sauron496
Summary: When people try to use things they don't understand to gain an upper hand in war, there are unforeseen consequences. This is the case no matter what galaxy you are in.





	1. Prologue

“Now, that’s odd.”

Starfleet Captain Thanya Ferraro had grown up in Miami, and had spent an additional several years here on while working on a research partnership between Starfleet and the University. She’d have sworn that the buildings housing the Milky Way Cafe and the public transporter terminal were jammed up against each other, with barely a crack between the walls.

Yet right now, there was a third, smaller building sitting in between. No passerby commented on it, and Thanya didn’t feel like asking questions. Not yet.

On the surface, the building appeared to fit in with the rest of the campus’s late 21st Century style–compact from resource constraints after World War III, practical under the peak of Vulcan cultural influence on Earth, as little specialization as possible, just like the people of that era had to be. And yet… very different. Somehow–but not in any way she could put it in words.

An arc of silver letters stretched over the wooden door. **The Captain’s Table**, they read. Thanya tried to look through the window, but it was darkened to the point of only showing her reflection. Almost hoping it would be locked, she tried to turn the handle.

The door easily swung open, and Thanya found herself in a bar. Patrons–and there were a fair number–turned to her. Many different species were represented, including several completely unfamiliar ones.

Then her eyes drifted to a _very_ familiar figure. “What the–”

The woman turned and met her eyes, instantly widening in recognition. She grinned. “Thanya!” she said. “Finally a Captain, I see!”

“Uhm…” Thanya’s feet automatically took her to the table, joining a Klingon, a Twi'Lek, and a furry four-armed alien whose species she didn’t know.

The barkeep approached. “Can I get you anything, Captain?”

Thanya hesitated and looked at her first commanding officer. “Uhm…”

“You can get _anything_,” she said.

“Uhm… pancakes. Swedish style. And a Rimmu cocktail.”

“Not going for exotics?” the Twi'lek asked as he knifed what looked like a roasted snake on his plate.

“Most don’t on their first visit,” the Klingon said. “Daima, Daughter of Ansher,” she introduced herself. “Captain of the _T'linkan_.”

“What is this place, ma'am? How can you be here?”

“First,” her former commander replied, “there’s no need for ranks. Everyone is a captain here. Just call me Cindy. The Captain’s Table… just like it says. If you weren’t a captain, you wouldn’t even see it.”

Thanya looked around. “I assume you can’t return to Earth by going through that door,” she said carefully.

Cindy sor Valetta shook her head. “Everyone exits where they entered.” The barkeep arrived with her food and drink. “Do we have to pay?”

“Eventually, you pay with a story.”

“What?”

The four-armed alien began moving all twenty-eight fingers in an elaborate pattern, and the universal translator in Thanya’s combadge interpreted the signs. “This is a place where everyone knows what the burden of command. No one gets here without something to tell.” He–she–it? pointed at Cindy. “This one never told much. I would think your species gloomy and secretive if I haven’t met–”

“We’ve heard that one!” the Twi'lek exclaimed.

“You know, maybe it is time,” Cindy said. “Especially since I don’t have to tell the _whole_ thing by myself anymore.”

She hadn’t spoken particularly loudly, yet it appeared that everyone in the bar had heard and turned their heads. “This should be good,” a brown-haired human murmured and took a long gulp from his beer mug.

“You want to start?” Cindy asked. “It’s pretty much the start of your story.”

Thanya considered, sipped a little of her cocktail and spoke. “Do I have to explain to them what the Dominion War is?”

“Nah,” Cindy said. “The general idea is universal. The Federation was desperate, fighting against a ruthless enemy with little hope. Too bad the Jem'Hadar have been bred to be so short-lived. It could have been interesting if one of their captains was around. Perspective, you know.”

“Alright. So, like Cindy said–wait a minute.” She turned to the four-armed alien. “You said everyone has something to tell? Surely not? I mean, there are places where a captain simply inherits the ship from their parent.”

“I did that,” Daima said. “Doesn’t matter. The Captain’s Table doesn’t advertise itself loudly. It appears, but you have to notice, and care enough to go in.”

“Alright. So I was finishing up my junior year at Starfleet Academy, and all of a sudden, command decides that the war is desperate enough to invoke certain emergency protocols. One of which is graduating our class early. So instead of end-of-year exams, I end up a green ensign on the USS _Vicksburg_, commanded by yours truly here.” She pointed at Cindy.

Her former captain laughed. “Then we receive a report of unusual Dominion activity and are sent to investigate. That’s how it all began…”


	2. Vicksburg 1

### Part I: Vicksburg

#### 1

“I’m sorry, Captain. I’ve lost them.”

Cindy sor Valetta sighed. Due to the war, two entire Academy classes were graduated and commissioned ahead of schedule. Ensign Thanya Ferraro should have been studying for her junior year examinations and selecting a topic for a graduation thesis, not handling a sensor console on a bridge of a starship in a warzone.

“Commander Blake,” she noted her security chief. Pale, blue-eyed, shaved bald, Ruby Blake was another new addition to the _Vicksburg_ bridge after a ground skirmish last month hospitalized her previous head of security. Unlike Ferraro, Blake had experience to spare, and should have been a first officer. With the undercrewed ship, Cindy used her in that capacity informally.

She crossed the bridge and leaned to Ensign Ferraro, muttering quietly and pointing out details on the console. _Clever_, Cindy recognized. Under the circumstances, no one would fault Blake for doing the ensign’s work for her—but she merely guided the younger woman in the right direction so that she could do it herself.

“Thank you, ma'am,” Ferraro said.

“Carry on,” Blake replied and returned to her own station.

“Dominion ship reacquired,” Ferraro announced. “Course 123-22 mark 15. Range 3.2 lightyears. Speed warp 4.2.”

“What are they doing here?” Cindy asked no one in particular. “Keep your distance,” she told the conn. “It looks like they don’t know about us, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“We can fight her, ma'am,” the tactical officer insisted.

“And then two or three of their friends will show up and destroy us. They do have cloaks, you know.”

“Are they just here to lure us?”

“They’re out of warp,” Ferraro said. “In a planetless system.”

“Take us above the ecliptic and put the star between us,” Cindy ordered. “Then head in. They’re up to something.”

* * *

“What the hell?”

When only silence followed that remark for a few seconds, Captain sor Valetta turned to the navigation station. “Lieutenant, you’re the only Betazoid onboard. Please articulate your thoughts.”

“Sorry, ma'am.” He modified the viewscreen and several white shapes appeared near an orangish ball of flame. “There’s that Dominion war cruiser we first spotted, two cargo vessels, and a small shuttle.”

“Alright…”

“The cargo vessels appear to be dropping bombs into the star.”

“What?”

“Exactly, ma'am. What could be the point?”

“Intensify the scan.”

“We could be detected,” Ruby Blake warned.

“Intensify the scan,” sor Valetta repeated, before relenting slightly. “Keep us on the other side of the star.”

Several tense moments passed. “Ma'am, there are numerous artificial objects maneuvering in the interior of the star.”

“What the hell?” the Betazoid navigator repeated.

“They are well-shielded,” Ferraro answered everyone’s unasked question. “Dominion signature.”

“Pull one of them out with a tractor beam.”

“We’ll need to descend to within forty thousand kilometers.”

“How long will our shields last?”

“Long enough,” Blake answered.

“Then do it.”

“Yes, ma'am.” In response to the conn, the _Vicksburg_ dove towards the star.

Blake moved to the tractor beam operator station. “Standing by.”

“Forty thousand kilometers.”

Blake tapped the key. Her console chirped. “Got—negative.”

“What happened?” sor Valetta demanded.

“Slippage vortex in the shields. Can you get us closer?”

“Shields at ninety percent,” Ferraro informed them.

“Drop to thirty thousand,” the captain ordered.

“Standing by.”

“Thirty thousand kilometers.”

This time, Blake activated both port and starboard tractor beams. “Gotcha!”

“Lieutenant, get us away!”

“Yes, ma'am!”

Two minutes later, they were back to a safe distance from the star and the mysterious object floated in space in front of the _Vicksburg_. “Magnify,” sor Valetta commanded.

The item was octahedral, black, about two meters tall. “Scanner can’t penetrate the interior.”

Sor Valetta had barely ten seconds to think when the Dominion device exploded, bathing them all in a flash.

“Did they spot us?”

“Negative,” Ferraro said after studying the sensor board. “It—”

Blake leaned in to see. “You’re not delusional, Ensign. They detonated all the bombs at once.”

“Why?”

“Take a look, Captain,” Blake manipulated the viewscreen. Explosion locations within the star were marked by black dots. Except for one gap, the bombs had been arranged in a ring nearly a thousand kilometers in diameter.

“I’m willing to bet _that_,” Blake pointed to the gap, “is where the one we captured was supposed to be?”

“But what could they do?”

“Without knowing exactly what they are, it’s impossible.”

“Ma'am, there’s instability in the star.”

“Caused by the bombs?”

“If not, it’s a hell of a coincidence,” sor Valetta said. “On screen.”

The middle of the bomb circle erupted almost as brightly as the original bomb, bright enough to be sharply contrasted against the star’s surface. “My god!” the navigator exclaimed. “Is that thing traveling at warp?”

The declaration made Ferraro jump back to her sensors. “Yes. Warp… nine point six.”

“So, that’s what this is about,” Blake declared. “A weapons test.”

“Weapons—Lieutenant, plot that beam’s course, now!”

It took several frantic minutes before the Betazoid sighed in relief. “Klingons will get a spectacular view in a couple of months,” he said. “It’ll pass within a light-year of Qo'nos. Nothing else after that until it hits the galactic core.”

“Good.”

Alarms blared. “The cruiser!”

“Evasive maneuvers!”

* * *

“Give them a spread of photon torpedoes.”

Blake obeyed. “Their shields held.”

“Keep firing.”

The Jem'Hadar cruiser raked _Vicksburg_ with phasers. “Shields at seventy percent!”

“Two more cruisers dropped out of warp.”

The enemy’s next shot caused a violent shudder, followed by a moan as the lieutenant at the conn smashed his head into the console, blood pouring out of his eye. “Medical emergency! Lieutenant Keroi, take the helm!”

The Betazoid navigator hit a switch to transfer the controls to him and immediately put the _Vicksburg_ into a twist. Four Dominion torpedoes streaked past, and when Captain sor Valetta switched the viewscreen to look behind, they saw Ruby Blake fire several precise phaser bursts causing damage.

“They are faster,” Keroi cautioned.

“Uh-oh,” Ferraro muttered from her station.

“Uh-oh, what, Ensign?”

“There are more of their weird mines in the star—another circle. Much smaller this time.”

“Where’s it pointing?”

“Right now, out the galaxy. But the star rotates—”

The pursuit resumed. “Can we disrupt it?”

“Not with that thing on us. One enemy at a time,” sor Valetta said.

Keroi overloaded the engines to make a sharp turn and point _Vicksburg_ away from the star, before firing up the warp drive. “Lieutenant!” sor Valetta had time to get out before they were engulfed by brightness again. When that subsided, pieces of the Jem'Hadar cruiser floated past.

“What happened?”

“They blew up the sunburst-inducing mines,” Ferraro said.

“And we got caught in it.”

“So did their cruiser.”

“How did you know what to do, Lieutenant?”

“I read his mind.”

“I thought Jem'Hadar were immune.”

“The Vorta aren’t.”

“What do we do?”

“We’re traveling at warp—sorry. When it’s not from our engines, the numbers don’t really make sense, and I’m getting no external readings.”

“Great. Can we pull out?”

“I think so. We can move laterally through the beam—and out of it.”

“Do it.”

Keroi tapped the controls. “Stand by.”

A minor jolt later flicked the brightness off and put the _Vicksburg_ back into normal space. There was a background of stars, but no nearby objects.

“Where are we?”

“I don’t know, Captain.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean it. This pattern of stars doesn’t exist anywhere in our galaxy.”


	3. Vicksburg 2

“Ship on scanners, Captain.”

“Big?”

“No—it’s about the size of a runabout.”

“Approach,” sor Valetta ordered. “Lifeforms?”

“One… reading as human.”

“How’s that possible?”

“The ship is showing signs of combat damage. It is drifting.”

“Captain to sickbay.”

“Shar here,” the Andorian CMO responded.

“Stand by. You may have a patient incoming.”

“What sort?”

“Who?”

“Don’t know yet. Local, possibly. Adrift in a ship. We’ll beam him over.”

“A stranger.”

“Human, though. Yes, doctor. We’re all just as surprised.”

“Well, perhaps he can tell us a tale.”

“I intend to hear it,” sor Valetta said. “I’m heading down to the transporter room. Blake, come with me. Keroi, you have the bridge.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

In the turbolift, Blake looked at her intensely. “Do you think the stranger is dangerous?”

“It’s always possible.”

Blake checked her phaser. “Should I bring in a squad?”

“Oh, I think the two of us will be enough,” the captain said, tapping her own phaser. “I will want your first impression.”

“Alright, ma'am.”

They stepped in and nodded to the transporter operator. “Do you have him?”

“Locked on.”

“Energize.”

Cindy’s first thought was that she bothered Dr. Shar needlessly. The man who materialized showed no signs of needing medical attention, unless the intense sweat was due to illness. He smiled at them, and waved.

The hand was made of metal, which startled both women for a second. Otherwise, the stranger seemed unremarkable. He was shorter than either of them, but much bulkier—though he was dressed in a loose-fitting outfit with many straps, hoses, and a black helmet hanging on his back. Like Blake, his head was shaved; unlike her, his swarthy complexion made the whites of his eyes very prominent. He was looking straight in the captain’s eyes.

Before either spoke, the transporter console produced a sound. “Alert from the bridge, ma'am,” the operator said.

“What happened, Keroi?”

“That ship exploded.”

The stranger said something, and a moment later, the universal translator parsed the meaning. “Damn it.” He turned to them. “Thank you,” he said. “You saved my life—though I don’t understand how.”

“What do you mean?” sor Valetta asked.

“One moment, I was in my ship, trying to affect repairs, then I’m here—and just in time, it looks like.”

Blake stared. “How can he not know about transporters?”

Sor Valetta stopped her. “We can discuss this later. No matter what happens, you will not be mistreated. But we’ve scanned your ship—it was damaged in battle. What happened? I need to know if there’s danger.”

“Oh, yes there is. I was in pursuit of a dangerous terrorist. I had been given assurances by my colleagues that the rest of his group would be in no position to spring an ambush. The assurances… proved mistaken.”

“So they might come back?”

“They have no reason to, now that my ship is gone. But if they spot you—absolutely. They’d love to get their hands on your—transporter did you say?”

“Later,” the captain repeated. “First, I don’t think we introduced ourselves. I’m Captain Cindy sor Valetta of the USS _Vicksburg_. This is my security chief, Lieutenant Ruby Blake.”

“And I am Inspector Voss Torrel of the Imperial Security Bureau.”

* * *

“I’m sorry, Inspector. Pulling you out of the wreck was one thing. However, using _Vicksburg_ to chase down your enemies is a violation of the Prime Directive.”

“But you said you weren’t even in your home galaxy.”

“Irrelevant. We can take you to a nearby planet, but that is it.”

Torel murmured something unpleasant. “They’re getting away,” he added. “These are terrorists and murderers!”

“I _am_ sorry.”

He resigned himself. “Alright, Captain. But how will you know where to go, without astrogation data?”

“He’s right, Captain,” Keroi interrupted. “Which of these stars even _have_ planets?”

“Most do,” Torel said. “It’s been a while since I did dead reckoning like this—but I believe that is E'Krit. It has a small spaceport, which I could make use of. It’s some thirty-five lightyears away.”

“Ensign Ferraro, take the helm and set course. Ruby, you have the bridge. Lieutenant Keroi, my office.”

“And me?” Torel asked.

“We have arranged guest quarters. It’s a couple of days travel—”

“What?”

“Thirty-five light-years at warp six. _Vicksburg_ isn’t a racer.”

“That speed is typical where you come from? Captain,” Torel declared, “you’re in grave danger.”

“How?”

“Even a rustbucket with a class four hyperdrive can make that distance in _minutes_. A modern fighter like these terrorists had? THIRTY SECONDS at most. They’ll get help, come in force, and steal your ship—with its teleporter that they’ll put to their nefarious purposes. And I can’t risk calling for help until I’m sure it will come before they do.”

“Bullshit.”

“What?”

“Ruby—”

“Bullshit,” the security officer repeated. “No one can travel that fast. If you could, you could unify the galaxy.”

“We _have_,” Torel declared. “I represent the _Galactic_ Empire. Successor to the _Galactic_ Republic. In one way or another, there has been a pan-galactic government for millennia. Hyperspace travel lets you go from Coruscant to the Outer Rim in hours, days on the slowest ships.”

“But you don’t have transporters?”

“No. Why are you looking at me? I’m no physicist, I have no idea how either technology really works. I _am_ a counter-terrorist, so I can see how your machine can be used in all sorts of crimes.”

“The same Prime Directive would apply.”

Torel laughed. “Tell me, Captain, would you hold to your Directive under torture? If they take half your crew hostage, would the other half let them die rather than cooperate? Can the system be learned by trial and error?” He shook his head. “And that’s just me coming up with ideas on the spot. Who knows what someone with time and a very high incentive can think of.”

“And what would you have us do?”

“You have shuttles?”

“Two.”

“Can they travel at—warp, you call it?”

“Yes.”

“Head to E'Krit, but sit outside the system where you are unlikely to be detected. We’ll take a shuttle in, I will contact my people, and you can be placed under Imperial protection. If the terrorists attack, we destroy the shuttle.”

Sor Valetta sat in her command chair in deep thought. Blake glared at the Imperial inspector, but when she tried to speak to her captain, Cindy raised her hand. “We’ll do it. Set course, and see what would be a good location near that system to hide the _Vicksburg_.”

She then rose and faced Torel. “I want to make something very clear, Inspector. I don’t trust you. I will deliver you to E'Krit—but you give me reason, and you will spend the intervening time in my brig.”

Torel was unfazed. “In your place, I wouldn’t trust me, either.”

* * *

“We’re here, Captain.”

“You look worried.”

“It’s nothing, ma'am.”

“Your apprehensions are not nothing.”

“I can’t read his mind. Torel’s, I mean.”

“Is that unusual?”

“He’s human.”

“Well, we didn’t run a DNA test,” sor Valetta admitted. “Perhaps he has natural counter-telepathy.”

“That should be more worrying.”

“Why?”

“Because it had to have evolved for a reason. Besides, he’s not completely opaque, like a Ferengi.”

“What do you mean?”

“I got glimpses—strong feelings. He’s definitely more than he pretends to be.”

“I’ll need something more concrete, Lieutenant.”

“He was very angry when you were pondering what to do. It’s incongruent—cheerful and accepting on the outside, and I feel rage just pouring out. He’s an excellent actor.”

“I see. Just because he didn’t get his way?”

“You reminded him he wasn’t in control—you were, Captain. He didn’t like it one bit.”

Sor Valetta pondered. “I told him I didn’t trust him—and he hasn’t done anything to earn it so far.”

“But he hasn’t done anything to put him in the brig, either.”

“So—do we follow up with the scheme he suggested or do something else?”

The discussion was interrupted by alarms ringing across the bridge. “What is it?”

“Ship—big one—just appeared.”

“On screen. Red alert. Battle stations!”

Technically, for both Keroi and sor Valetta, this was their off-shift. But sor Valetta wanted her most experienced navigator to handle the approach to E'Krit, and she herself was too worried to sleep. The rest of the bridge, however, was crewed by gamma shift. She noticed the increased response time; she wasn’t usually a part of their small team, nor they of hers. _More cross-shift training_, she jotted in the back of her mind.

“Warship,” the weapons officer declared.

“Why that conclusion, Ensign?”

“Form follows function. Look at her!”

They had a closer look now. The ship was roughly the length of _Vicksburg_, but a lot bulkier. Shaped like a flat wedge with several cylindrical protrusions in the back and an island on top, it was colored dull gray, difficult to spot in deep space.

“It raised shields.”

“Raise ours—”

The ship opened fire and several bright red bolts hammered the _Vicksburg_. “Shield generator is disabled.”

Then their starship shook again. “Tractor beam,” the weapons officer said.“

"We won’t fit into their hangar.”

“Blake here,” the security chief reported by comm. “I’ve got my teams assembled.”

“Have two of them escort our guest to the bridge. I want some answers.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Can we trust what he tells us?”

“Lies can be useful, too.”

Torel looked disheveled when he appeared. “What is happening?”

“I was hoping your could tell us. That ship took down our shields and put a tractor beam on us.”

“Did you shoot?”

“Of course not.”

Torel didn’t respond immediately, but then Keroi interjected. “Multiple ships popping out!”

Sor Valetta turned to the screen. Some two dozen small craft, less than ten meters long, converged on the wedge-shaped cruiser.

“Captain, destroy them!”

When sor Valetta turned to him in fury, he stood firm. “Those are the terrorists. They’re going to—”

Two small explosions flashed within seconds as a dogfight between the fighters the cruiser launched and the attackers concluded in the latter’s favor. They once again took up formation and sped towards their target. They approached from the rear, so the cruiser blocked most of the _Vicksburg_‘s view.

A barrage of missiles. Detonations all over the hull. The Starfleet vessel jerked as tractor beams suddenly released.

Torel transformed into a storm of rage, punching both security officers with enough strengh to collapse them, throwing the ensign on the bridge weapons station out of her chair and over his head, and starting to punch buttons on that console. Phaser beams spat from the _Vicksburg_, hitting several craft. The others turned around, circled for a few moments, jinking to avoid Torel’s fire, and then formed up to attack them.“

A phaser beam crossed the bridge and hit Torel in the back. It seemed to have no effect, but then something tiny zipped by on the same course. It collapsed the Imperial inspector.

"Mirren, Raya, take him to the brig,” Blake ordered, holstering the dart gun alongside her phaser and taking up the weapons station herself. “How did he resist the stun?”

“A question to ask him later. What happened to the ships?”

“I’ve gone to warp to avoid the missiles,” Keroi informed them. “But engineering tells me we can’t do it again until we make repairs—and they’re still bent on destroying us.”

On screen, the formation of fighters and bombers was fast approaching. “Shields?” sor Valetta asked.

“Still down.”

“Have you tried hailing them?”

“Unsuccessfully. Once again, either their systems are too incompatible to pick up the signal, or they don’t want to talk.”

“I can shoot them,” Blake suggested.

“And carry out Torel’s agenda for him?”

“Even one missile can be catastrophic. A volley like the one we just saw—”

“Captain to engineering. Do we have transporters?”

“We do. No damage.”

“When they get within range, beam the pilots on those craft onboard.”

“Beam—”

“Before they fire the missiles.”

“Will do, ma'am.”

“Team of eight to each transporter room, now!” Blake shouted into her combadge.

“I was going to beam them straight to the brig.”

“So either the plan works perfectly, or we have armed hostiles loose.”

“Damn, didn’t think about that.”

“That’s not your job, Captain. It’s mine.”

* * *

“Status.”

“Imperial cruiser fled. We’ve got eight pilots in the brig, and two more in sickbay—the ones Torel shot.”

“He shot more,” Cindy growled.

“They’re dead, ma'am.”

“The fighters?”

“Only the wrecks. Loss of the pilot doesn’t shut down their engines.”

“That’s not reassuring.”

“Dr. Shar? What can you tell us about our patients?”

“One’s a human male,” the Andorian doctor replied, “in his twenties. The other is a female of a mammalian humanoid species I’ve never seen, but she appears to be even younger. Both suffer from burns, but it’s not live-threatening. Their suits partially protected them from both the weapons fire and vacuum.”

“Weapons?”

“Pistols of an unknown design firing some sort of energy beam.”

“They all have them—including the ones in the brig?”

“Yes, ma'am,” Blake replied. “We just beamed them there as is.”

“Have they tried to use them?”

“A few. Some seem to have taken the capture as an opportunity to sleep instead.”

“Show the photographs.”

Blake put up a grid of ten faces on the screen. Four humans, six aliens, all from unfamiliar species. “Hmm…” Cindy considered.

“Ma'am?” Ensign Ferarro seemed worried.

_She’s still a kid_. “Who’s the leader?”

“What?”

“Which one of them is the leader?”

“Captain, I don’t know—we’re supposed to tell just from face shots?”

“Of course,” Blake said.

“Why don’t we just ask them?”

“Consider what happened the last time we took a stranger at his word.”

Blake tapped a few keys on her PADD and numbers appeared next to each face. “Everyone, vote for who the leader is,” she said, and tapped her own response.

“Consider this a test of your perception skill,” Cindy encouraged the others at the conference table.“

"Results are in,” Blake announced a few moments later, and displayed them. Four came in for the blonde woman in the middle of the second row, one for the injured human man, and two for the ridge-faced bulky grey-skinned alien in the last spot.

Cindy ended the meeting. “I’m going to the brig,” she said. “Blake, Ferrao, you’re with me. We’ll start with the blonde lady.”

* * *

“Drop the containment field opacity.”

The security crewmember tapped a button and the brig suddenly got bigger as the cell walls on one side seemed to disappear, revealing the prisoners. Lieutenant Commander Blake, Captain sor Valetta, and Thanya walked slowly past them. Several reached out to touch the newly transparent walls, and jerked their hands away from the mild shock of the force field.

Those whose expressions could be read weren’t particularly angry, though they were grim. Several had obvious weapons strapped to their clothes, but no one brandished them. Captain sor Valetta gestured to her and Lieutenant Blake to stand still and stepped forward in front of the blonde woman’s cell.

“I’m Captain Cindy sor Valetta of the USS _Vicksburg_. On behalf of my crew and the United Federation of Planets, I apologize. Two of your comrades have been killed because of my neglect.”

The blonde woman jerked backwards. “Excuse me?”

“Who’s dead?” one of other prisoners demanded.

“You had a dozen ships,” sor Valetta said. “We recovered ten. The eight of you here, and two more in our sickbay.”

She ordered the same images they viewed in the ready room projected on the brig wall.“

"You shot at us,” the blonde declared. “We rescued you from—”

“No one on my crew fired those shots. It happened on my ship, so I am responsible—but we had no intent to attack.”

“You’re not making sense—and I never heard of your Federation, or seen ships like yours.”

“I expect not.”

“Why are we prisoners?”

Instead of answering, sor Valetta motioned to the brig supervisor, who toggled several force field controls. The opaque field in one cell across from them became transparent, revealing Voss Torel.

“Don’t worry,” sor Valetta informed the blonde. “It’s one-sided, and he can’t hear us.”

“He’s alive!”

“We found his ship drifting and damaged—and it exploded shortly after we beamed him on board.”

“Beamed?”

“Teleported. Like we did with you.”

“So what did you do with him?”

“Listened. He claims to be from the Imperial Security Bureau.”

“He is.”

“He said he was fighting terrorists.”

“Us, you mean.”

“He scared everyone with what would happen if you got our transporter. He wanted us to bring him to E'Krit.”

“From where Hue left him? That’s strange.”

“Hue?”

The blonde’s face turned to frustration at having revealed some information. “We’re in mutual mistrust, Captain.”

“Not to the point of names,” sor Valetta said. “I told you mine already; this is Ensign Thanya Ferrao and Lieutenant Commander Ruby Blake.”

“You have the power,” the blonde said.

Sor Valetta didn’t reply. “What’s strange?” she asked instead.

“If he wanted to get back to the Empire, there is an outpost in the Charinna system—much closer than E'Krit.”

“He did try to enlist us in chasing you,” sor Valetta admitted. “I refused. I offered to drop him off at any planet within reach, and he suggested E'Krit.”

The feathered alien persisted. “You weren’t even in system, and that light cruiser found you. Isn’t it obvious?”

“No,” Blake said. “Explain.”

“He needs to keep your teleporter away from us. You refuse to fight us for him, so he lures you here and summons a cruiser to hold you. The Imperial ship didn’t fire, just pinned you with a tractor beam.”

“Perhaps they wanted to capture us.”

“You’re lucky they didn’t,” another prisoner grumbled.

“Wait, go on,” Captain sor Valetta told the feathered alien.

“He does it specifically next to E'Krit, where he knows we’ll come out to see what the cruiser is up to. And then—you said it yourself, Captain. None of your crew fired on us. He did it, right?”

“Correct,” sor Valetta admitted. “He must have known he couldn’t have gotten more than a couple of shots off before we took him down.”

“Doesn’t matter. You fire on us, we fire back, there’s now blood on both sides—and you are now with the Empire by process of elimination. Plays well into the terrorist angle, too.”

“But that would mean he sacrificed all those people on the cruiser.”

The blonde laughed. “This is the Empire, Captain. They destroyed a whole planet less than a year ago. _My_ planet.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You know,” Blake interrupted, “it almost worked. It would have if he internalized the existence of the transporter.”

“What?”

“Think about it. You only lost the two people he hit before I knocked him out at our weapons station. You live because we beamed you off. If we had no transporter, and you kept coming at us, we would have to start shooting—just as—uhm,” she looked at the feathered alien.

The blonde woman sighed. “If you let us out, we’ll tell you who we are.”

“Captain, you can’t—” Blake began.

“Take off all your weapons and place them in front of you,” sor Valetta ordered.

The blonde looked around, then nodded and took the pistol off her hip, followed by reaching in the interior of her suit to remove a strap of three small grenades. Others produced an assortment of pistols, rifles, knives, grenades, and a sixty-centimeter long sword the feathered alien had on his—her—its? back.

Blake stared. Thanya blinked a few times. “Captain to transporter room,” sor Valetta tapped her combadge. “Energize.”

The weapons shimmered and disappeared. “Keep them safe,” she ordered Blake. “The Prime Directive goes both ways.”

A combadge materialized in the place of the weapons. “Pin them on your clothing,” sor Valetta said. “If you take them off outside the quarters we provide you, security will be alerted immediately.”

“We understand,” the blonde said. When her group complied, the captain smiled and nodded at the operator. The force fields vanished.

Lieutenant Blake tensed, ready to draw her phaser. But no one rushed to attack the Captain or broke to escape. Instead, the blonde straightened herself and looked sor Valetta straight in the eye.

“I present to you Helix Squadron of the Alliance to Restore the Republic. I’m Captain Evaan Verlaine.”


	4. Vicksburg 3

“You’re clear,” Dr. Shar said.

“Thank you,” Hue Tico shook his hand. “Ma'am,” he acknowledged Captain Verlaine who was watching from nearby. “Is everything alright?”

“Everything? Of course not,” Verlaine said. “But we don’t have any immediate worries for now.”

“Where are we?”

Another woman, one he’d never met, answered. “Aboard the USS _Vicksburg_. We’ve been stranded in your galaxy.”

“_Our_ galaxy? You mean you from another one?”

“That’s right,” she said. “We didn’t believe it at first either. I’m Ensign Thanya Ferraro, by the way. Captain sor Valetta assigned me to act as liason with you. Show you around the ship, make sure you don’t get into trouble… and learn about this war with the Empire.”

“Which you’re now a part of,” Verlaine said.

“The Captain intends to adhere to the Prime Directive,” Ferraro said briskly. “And whatever happens, it’ll be up to _her_. Not you. Sorry,” she caught herself. “We’re all testy after Torel.”

“You have him?” Hue demanded.

Ferraro nodded. “In our brig—he attempted to provoke a fight by firing our phasers at you.”

“What about his ship?”

“Blown up shortly after we beamed him up.”

“Beamed?”

Ferraro explained. “That’s how you got us here, too?”

“Correct,” Verlaine said. “They kept us in the brig for a while, too.”

“Do you believe them?”

Ferraro looked bristled. “I do,” Verlaine said. “I saw Torel in their cell.”

“I want to see him,” Hue announced.

Ferraro frowned. “Now?”

“Now.”

“Something up?”

“A hunch,” Hue said. “Nothing more. I want to speak with him.”

“I’ll need to ask the Captain,” Ferraro said.

Verlaine nodded. “We’re on probation,” she explained. “No weapons, tracked at all times… and we can’t really do anything until we get somewhere.” She looked at Ferraro in accusation. “Your ship is too slow.”

“Even if the Prime Directive didn’t forbid it, it’s not like we have one of you hyperdrives lying around.”

“What about the replicators?”

“Need technical specifications. We—”

“What is it?”

“Possibly an idea—I’ll need to check some things.”

Ferraro and Hue exchanged looks. “What is going on?”

“No clue,” he smiled at her. “Does your captain tell you everything?”

Ferraro burst out in laughter before being interrupted by a combadge chirp. “Captain sor Valetta here.”

“Captain, Hue Tico wishes to speak with Torel.”

“Does he?” sor Valetta inquired. “Alright. Permission granted, but I want a security officer there with you.”

“Fine,” Hue shrugged. “Captain Verlaine?”

“Tell me how it goes later.”

“You don’t want to be there?”

“No. Useful or not, I don’t like hearing Imperial lies.”

Hue acknowledged and left sickbay with Ensign Ferraro. “Clean ship,” he commented.

“Thanks.”

When the turbolift doors opened, they were met by another woman, taller than Ferraro and shaved bald. “Lieutenant Commander Blake,” Ferraro half-acknowledged, half-introduced.

“Captain sor Valetta requested a security officer accompany you,” Blake said. “So here I am.”

Hue shook his head. “Is your Federation some sort of matriarchy?”

“Yup,” Blake said. “I’ve got four husbands slaving away for me on the lower decks.”

Both he and Ferraro stopped dead in their tracks and looked at the security chief as if her skin erupted with the colors of the rainbow. This lasted a few seconds before both women burst out in laughter.

“Hey, there _are_ such places,” Hue protested.

“I’d like to visit them,” Blake declared and strode forward.

“First time I heard her make a joke,” Ferraro whispered to him.

“That’s what made it so effective,” she called out. They went into the brig. “Here we are,” Blake pointed at the opaque force field. “Do you need a moment to get ready?”

He considered. “I’m alright,” he said. “Let me see him.”

Blake tapped the control outside the cell. “This should be—”

Blake’s face contorted in shock. Ferraro gasped. Hue simply peered forward.

The cell was empty.

* * *

“Captain, the prisoner escaped.”

“Red alert. What happened to the alarms?”

“Looking into it. Ensign Ferraro, arm yourself.”

“He was in there?”

“Ask your captain,” Blake retorted. She frowned at the brig console screen. “Computer, locate Chief Mirren.”

“Chief Mirren is in her quarters.”

“Blake here. Have a security team meet me on deck six.” She turned to Ferraro and Hue. Let’s go.“

When they got to the door to Chief Mirren’s quarters, two security officers aimed their phasers at the entrance and two other took positions on each side. Blake drew her own phaser, ensured Hue and Ferraro were standing back and tapped a key on the door’s control panel.

"Security override, alpha sigma three.”

The door swished open. Blake entered, sweeping the room with her phaser. There was no one inside. Mirren’s roommate would be on post in engineering, but if the computer said Mirren was here…

“Combadge,” Raya announced. The device had been hidden under the pillow.

“Inspect the security footage from the corridor. See when she got in and out.”

Raya acknowledged and began typing away on her PADD. “Captain.”

“I’ve been paying attention,” sor Valetta said. “I don’t think you’ll find anything.”

“Why not?”

“Because the relevant footage from the brig was erased and replaced with a repeating loop. He’s there—then he isn’t. Same for Chief Mirren.”

“You need permissions to access the security subsystem to do that.”

“Or to open up the brig in the first place. We’ll worry about how he managed to suborn Mirren once we catch him.”

“This isn’t typical of Mirren.”

Blake grunted. “Captain, a computer diagnostic will tell us where else the security footage was tampered with.”

“Torel is thorough enough to rig that, too,” Hue commented.

“He could try. But Mirren wouldn’t have access to that. Only the captain and first officer could. We’re currently short a first officer, so—”

The captain’s voice echoed through loudspeakers across the ship. “Stand by for level three computer diagnostic.”

“It’ll take a few minutes,” Ferarro explained to Hue.

When the diagnostic was complete, computer screens in the room lit up again. “Lieutenant Blake, you can terminate your search. Escape pod four is gone.”

“What? How did it escape undetected.”

“Captain Verlaine, does the Empire have cloaking devices?”

“They do. They’re rare and bulky, but they exist.”

“There we go,” sor Valetta said.

“And Chief Mirren?”

“She’s either an accomplice or—”

“Hold on, Captain. Yes. Come on. Ensign Crand says he found something.”

They descended a few and stopped in front of a hatch with a large number 4 painted in red. “This is where the escape pod Torel stole was docked.”

“Yeah,” Crand’s fists had clenched. “He was here, alright.”

He tapped the control pad. On other side of the door, attached to its top rim by the hair, was a woman’s head.

Without the body attached.

“Mirren,” Crand said.

Ensign Ferraro threw up.

* * *

Evaan Verlaine sensed that the two companions in the _Vicksburg_‘s conference room with her were on edge. Samat, who was responsible for the squadron’s intelligence gathering, hid the frustration by flipping through a Starfleet datapad, looking up to glance over the others every couple of minutes. Hue Tico, who had run-ins with Voss Torel even before he joined the Alliance, exchanged a whispered conversation with Thanya Ferraro.

The other Starfleet senior officers, except for the dozed-off Lieutenant Keroi looked guarded. Dr. Shar—she’d learned his species were called Andorians—was chatting with Chief Engineer Relon about the strange coincidence about the presence of humans in two widely separated galaxies. She wished Lieutenant Tayeni had been here; she was a scientist and might have something to contribute to their speculation.

Ruby Blake had apparently ignored her captain’s orders and had pulled apart a blaster. _Her_ blaster. Now, she was inspecting the unfamiliar components and struggling to put them back together into a working model. Verlaine didn’t offer to help—Blake seemed to be the sort who wouldn’t hesitate to ask if needed.

Captain sor Valetta walked in bearing fury on her face. She sat down at the head of the table and began speaking slowly and deliberately.

“Have you located the rest of Chief Mirren?”

“No, Captain,” Ruby Blake said apologetically. “I doubt we will, either. We found fragments of her uniform in the pod bay. My guess is, after staging his little demonstration, Torel let the corpse be tossed into the void.”

“I scanned for the sublight portion of the pod’s beacon,” Keroi informed her, “and triangulated the origin. The pod isn’t there. No debris, either.”

“They have it,” Verlaine said. “Does it have your teleporter?”

“No—and that’s about the only good thing I can say.”

“Why would Chief Mirren betray us?”

“Is that rhetorical, Dr. Shar, or do you think I can pull an answer out of thin air?”

“Before this happened—” she corrected herself, “—before _we discovered_ it happened, you had a possible suggestion to quickly boost our speed, Captain Verlaine. You even claimed that there would be no violation of the Prime Directive—though I’m less concerned about that than I was an hour ago.”

“Captain!” Keroi exclaimed.

“Let’s see—first an attempt to provoke us into war, then murder of our crewmember, and lastly the theft of an escape pod. Starfleet got involved for far less. Yes, it’s a grey area. Should we ever get back, I will submit to a Federation court.”

“And how do we know we can trust this Rebel Alliance?”

When both Hue and Samat started to rise, Verlaine stopped them. “It’s a fair question. Trust is earned, and the only thing we’ve done when not in their power is fire on the _Vicksburg_.”

“My instinct says I can trust _you_, Captain,” sor Valetta admitted. “For one thing, you don’t try to take advantage of our ignorance. Torel scared us with you. In four days, he must have told twenty horror stories about "terrorists”.“

"How much truth was in them, I wonder,” Blake muttered.

“Probably some,” Hue admitted. “Outright lies are not Torel’s style.”

“I’m sure you have a corresponding list,” sor Valetta said. “You said they destroyed your planet. But you don’t go into details.”

“I don’t _want_ to remember, Captain. I doubt the others do either.”

“So that’s one thing in your favor. A willingness to let us decide for ourselves. You also didn’t encourage me to toss the Prime Directive aside for your benefit. So here’s the deal. I’m not committing us yet. We need help around here, starting with speeding us up. We’re willing to help you in return. After Torel’s stunt, any cooperation with the Empire is off the table.

"Unfortunately, our comm systems are no more fit to work across the galaxy than our warp drive,” Chief Engineer Relon said.

“Don’t worry about that. Imperial Holonet nodes are quite ubiquitous, and we can slice them.”

“But won’t you get caught?”

“If we used them routinely for operations, even with encryption, traffic analysis would catch something,” she said. “A single message isn’t enough.”

* * *

“Ship dropping out of hyperspace, Captain.”

“On screen.”

The _Vicksburg_ crew tensed; the vessel looked to be of the same design as the Imperial light cruiser from two days ago. The only significant difference was…“

"It’s green,” Hue Tico said.

Verlaine, who hadn’t been paying attention, jerked her head up at that. “Oh, no.”

“Do we run? Fight?” sor Valetta demanded.

“No… but of all people…”

“We’re being hailed.”

“Put them on,” sor Valetta ordered.

An image of a bridge with several crewmembers of varying species replaced the starfield. Everyone seemed to be dressed in some shade of green, and in the center was a tall woman with green hair. “This is Lieutenant Commander Amilyn Holdo of the Alliance cruiser _Fortitude_,” she introduced herself.

“I’m Captain Cindy sor Valetta of the USS _Vicksburg_.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Holdo said. “Hello, Evaan.”

“Amilyn,” Verlaine said tersely.

“So what’s the trouble?”

Sor Valetta glanced at Verlaine. “Well?”

Verlaine sighed. “Did you bring the hyperdrive rings?”

“Five of them. The request was odd enough to catch my interest.”

“Alright.” Verlaine turned to Cindy. “A hyperdrive ring is an external hyperdrive that can attach to a ship without one. It works quite well if the ship was designed to be compatible. Yours obviously wasn’t—so it’ll require some tinkering.”

Holdo’s cruiser released four ring-shaped craft and a half-dozen escorting fighters. “Where do we attach?” she asked.

“Clamp on the nacelles—two each,” sor Valetta said. “Relon, see to it.”

The chief engineer acknowledged. Worry did not show up on his face, but then he was a Vulcan. Cindy noticed the hesitation, though. “Something wrong?”

“They look… small. Can they handle the mass?”

“I have the same concerns—but it’s the only real option. We won’t be pushing them. If it takes a week to get to our base, so be it.”

“If you have important business, you don’t have to stay—”

“I’m seeing this through, Captain,” Verlaine declared.

“And your squadron?”

“They won’t leave without me.”

“Meanwhile, may I extend an invitation to visit my ship, Captain? And anyone else in your crew, of course.”

Sor Valetta paused, considering. “Relon, do you have an ETA?”

“Four hours at least,” he answered. “The alloys are too different to weld together.”

“I’d be glad to,” Cindy said. “Lt. Keroi, Ensign Ferraro, come with me. Don’t worry, Commander Blake. I do intend to take a security escort.”

“Ma'am—”

“Not you. You have the ship, Commander.”

“Blake to Raya,” the security chief commed. “Join the Captain in the transporter room for an away mission.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

The three officers entered the turbolift. “Take care of her, Commander,” she said to Holdo before shutting the comm. She looked at the image of _Fortitude_ against a backdrop of stars for a while, and then took a seat in the bridge’s center chair. “You really didn’t want to go,” she told Verlaine.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Amilyn Holdo… is my ex.”

* * *

“Energize.”

Half of Helix squadron vanished from the transporter pads, accompanied by Ruby Blake. “We’re here,” she commed a few seconds later. “They are astonished.”

“Alright. The rest of us will be in momentarily,” Cindy sor Valetta said and joined Verlaine with the remainder of her unit on the transporter pads. “Energize.”

They materialized under a transparent dome some two hundred meters across on what was clearly a moon orbiting a yellow gas giant. The two to three story buildings nearly filled the dome’s floor in orderly rows, but they had a look of impermanence about them. Humans, aliens, robots, and vehicles bustled around; despite Blake’s claim, no one outside the small group of people nearby was paying attention.

“Captain Cindy sor Valetta of the USS _Vicksburg_,” Cindy introduced herself for what seemed like the twentieth time in the past week. “Thanks for your help with the hyperdrive rings.”

“General Rieekan,” a dark-haired man extended his hand. “Thank _you_. We were worried when Helix Squadron failed to report back.”

“And yet you sent Amilyn to find us,” Verlaine mocked.

“Hardly finding. You let us know exactly where you were. The _Fortitude_ had the hyperdrive rings.”

“How can we help, General?” Cindy asked. “I don’t see a way for us to get home right now, and with the likes of the Empire, we won’t last long on our own.”

“Can you stay a few days here?”

“Why?”

“We may be able to obtain a hyperdrive suitable for a ship the size of yours. I don’t have one on hand right now, and from the report the _Fortitude_ engineers gave me, this trip stressed the rings beyond anything that can be considered safe.”

Cindy nodded. “I’ll need to arrange a few things anyway.”

“Like what, ma'am?” Blake asked.

“Later. In the meanwhile… how are you on food, General?”

“Boring but sufficient… when the miners left the system, they didn’t bother to take the ration bar supply.”

“Well, perhaps we can provide a valuable service,” she said. “Since you don’t have transporters, I presume you also don’t have replicators. As long as we’re around, you can drop the boring part on your food situation.”


	5. Vicksburg 4

“Hi.”

“Hey. You made it.”

“No, he didn’t. I’m Huee Tico, the clone.”

“Seriously?”

Hue Tico shook his head. “Cloning is _real_, though.”

“We have it back home,” Thanya countered.

“Did you save me a seat?”

“What, you don’t want to sit on my lap?”

Bantering, they made their way to the Rebel base’s central space. Normally, something like this would be done onboard ship, with most of the _Vicksburg_ crew having to listen to their captain over the ship’s intercom. She was glad General Rieekan offered the opportunity; no matter what he may have said, she noticed that it put a strain on them, swelling the number of people in the dome by almost a quarter.

“Back home there are probably people wondering that ships with names starting with ‘V’ are cursed.”

“What?”

“You wouldn’t know. It’s just that in the last three years, _two_ Starfleet vessels ended up hurled far, far from home. _Vicksburg_ and _Voyager_.”

“Renaming her won’t bring you home.”

She laughed. “Yeah, and I won’t be able to collect.”

“Collect what?”

“A silly Starfleet Academy tradition,” she admitted. “Before graduation, every cadet writes down how long the first shipwide speech they hear from their first captain will be. To the second. Whoever in the class comes closest, wins.”

“And how much did you bet?”

“Three minutes eighteen seconds.”

“Short, huh?”

“We were graduating in the midst of a war, and being on the command track, I’d figured I’d end up on an established vessel. An engineer or scientist has a better chance to be placed on a newly commissioned ship right out of the Academy. The first crew typically gets a long one.”

“So you’re timing it?”

“Why? It’ll be recorded.”

The subject of their conversation stepped up to the podium.

“Crew of the USS _Vicksburg_ and members of the Alliance to Restore the Republic,” Cindy sor Valetta began. “A moment of silence, please, for Chief Louise Eraina Mirren.”

She let the quiet last for some time and then resumed. “We’ve found ourselves in a distant, unfriendly, and in some ways, technologically superior galaxy. Striving out on our own is too risky, so we won’t do it. The _Vicksburg_ and its crew are now part of the Alliance.”

There was a round of applause, but not one of overwhelming enthusiasm. “The Prime Directive was created to prevent Starfleet from suborning technologically inferior worlds and amassing power at those worlds’ natives’ expense. There is little danger of that here.”

“I don’t know,” Hue muttered. “Why don’t you fly to Coruscant and snatch the Emperor away like you did with us?”

“You know, if the captain isn’t thinking about that, I’m sure Lieutenant Commander Blake is.”

“I will not pretend it is an ideal situation. We’re joining because we don’t a way back, we’ve got something the Empire wants, and we don’t want them to have it. I will accept any resignation, either to join the Alliance elsewhere to live in this galaxy as civilians. I cannot even say which course of action bears the least risk.

"Now that we’re on our own, the _Vicksburg_ needs to have all vital slots filled. Lieutenant Commander Ruby Blake, please step up.”

The security chief rose and approached the podium. She looked slightly confused, which surprised Thanya. Everyone else knew this would happen.

Captain sor Valetta took two pips from each side of her uniform collar and pinned them on her security chiefs. “Commander Ruby Blake,” she said. “I’m formally assigning you to the position of First Officer of the USS _Vicksburg_.”

“I don’t have a choice, ma'am?”

“This is wartime. No.”

“Thank you, Captain. I accept.”

“She isn’t happy,” Hue commented.

“I’m sure there’s a story behind that, but I don’t know it.”

There was another non-overwhelming round of applause. Ruby Blake wasn’t someone this crew knew for a long time. Their new first officer looked them over, gave a tight smile that didn’t reach her eyes, and stepped away.

“Thank you,” sor Valetta said. “Thank you all. We _will_ find a way home. Starfleet crews have come out on top of much worse predicaments. As our new allies say… may the Force be with us.”

* * *

“First Officer! First fucking Officer!”

“You don’t want the rank?”

“Oh, what gave that away?” Ruby Blake snarled.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You heard her. No choice.”

“In the same speech,” Evaan Verlaine said slowly, “you Captain offered to accept any resignation. You could do it. Any Alliance unit will be glad to have you.”

“Sorry, but no.”

“Mind telling me the reason?”

Blake stopped pacing the small room. She didn’t take Evaan’s question as rhetorical. “Because I want a chance at love.”

“As, in, romance?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“And how does being a first officer exclude it?”

“Formally, it doesn’t.”

“So it’s not about a anti-fraternization rule?”

“Starfleet judges those things on an individual basis. There are numerous long-term couples serving together… sometimes even when one of them’s the Captain. It’s just that for me, romance and first officerdom are disaster ingredients.”

“Hmm… you’d have to clarify.”

“I don’t have to do anything.”

“No, of course not. You do if you want me to understand, though. Do you?”

Blake stopped to think again. “Want to try out an X-Wing?”

“What?”

“Flying takes away my stress.”

“I’m not stressed, I’m… well, maybe later,” Blake amended. “It won’t make the problem go away.”

“And what is, precisely, the problem?”

“I’ve been a Lieutenant Commander three times,” Blake admits.

“How old are you?”

“Forty-five.”

“You don’t look it.”

“Good genes,” she shrugs it off. “Anyway, first time was when I was promoted to night shift head on the research ship _Leland_. Quiet little post, not exactly what most people picture when they think of Starfleet. Crew of sixty-five. I serve there for about a year, then the captain and first officer decide it’s time to retire. I’m too young to be put in command, but the first officer slot is mine for the taking.”

“And you took it?”

“Sure did. So, new captain comes aboard. Thought she was Vulcan at first, but logic was the last thing on her mind. Probably quarter-Romulan. Gorgeous, black-haired, pointy-eared…” Evaan doesn’t understand half the terms, and the look on her face must tell her, since Blake abruptly stops. “After what happened, for a while I thought there was something to strict anti-fraternization rules.”

“What happened?”

“Distress call from freighter being attacked by pirates. Captain decides how we’ll take them. But she’s wrong, and she’s come up through the science division, and never focused on combat, and I have, and this is _precisely_ when I’m supposed to tell her she’s wrong, but we’ve been having a quarrel and I want to make up, and I start, and she glares at me again…” Blake exhales from the rapid speech, “and I can’t, so everyone does it her way. Ten dead crewmembers, fourteen dead civilians, pirates escape with the cargo. _Leland_‘s lost a warp nacelle and is drifting in space. Some rescue. So. Court-martial. At which, of course, everything comes out, including our relationship. Dishonorable discharge for her. Demotion back to ensign for me.”

“You thought you deserved it.”

“Damn straight I did! Not to mention, afterwards, everyone thought I became first officer _because_ I slept with the captain. I not only stopped dating in the chain of command after that, I stopped dating _in Starfleet_. But you can see how this dropped my pool of opportunities.

"Eventually, I’m back up to Lieutenant Commander and am being considered for promotion to Commander—which is typically the rank of the first officer on a large starship like _Anabasis_, where a first officer’s slot opens up. My captain writes a good reference, I interview with the captain of the _Anabasis_, looks good. Both ships come back to Earth and we plan on promotion/transfer ceremony. And because it’s on Earth, I get to invite my girlfriend. Not that her being there or not made any real difference in the end.”

“Something happened.”

“_Worst. Timing. Ever._ In the middle of the ceremony, news arrives that war with Cardassia broke out. And guess who my girlfriend is? A Cardassian from their embassy on Earth. Words come out. Phasers come out. When the security team arrives to detain her for the diplomatic exchange, I give her a farewell kiss. I wasn’t thinking. Everyone sees it, and because of the war, no one trusts me. Least of all my new captain.”

“I _try_ to do my job, but I can’t put up with suspicion both above and below, so three weeks after the promotion, the captain and I have a row. On the bridge. In public. That’s it. I’m out as first officer.”

“Lost rank again?”

“I volunteered for that. I was drinking my sorrows down on Andor when Section 31 picked me up. Suggested I join them. I could be sent undercover to Cardassia, and everything that happened could be used as a cover story. Worked for a while.”

“How long is a while?”

“Five years. Then, just as the Dominion and Cardassia ally and the Dominion war starts, my cover gets blown, and I have to flee back to the Federation. A deep cover agent would be most useful, and now they don’t have one. Not exactly how you earn good references. And they don’t know what to really do with me. My history _until_ my time with Section 31 is public. Admiral Nechaev is being nice, but I can tell—as soon as my name comes up, captains protest, and I don’t have any weight behind me.”

“Then suddenly, I get orders to report aboard _Vicksburg_ and take the post of security chief. I’ve no idea that the ship lacks a first officer and I end being an informal one anyway. I don’t know what Captain sor Valetta was thinking. I mean, she can’t not know—”

“I know.”

Cindy sor Valetta stands in the doorway. She has replaced the pips on her collar that she gave to Blake. She folds her arms across and looks at her new first officer.

“Eavesdropping, Captain?”

“You accidentally turned on your combadge, Commander,” sor Valetta says equally formally. “I made sure no one else heard, but the words 'First fucking officer’ don’t exactly inspire one to drop the subject.”

“So what happens now?”

“Do you want to talk in front of—”

“Captain Verlaine has heard enough already. Might as well have the rest. I trust you’ll be discrete.”

“No problem,” Evaan says.

“Now, I didn’t know you were Section 31, of course. I guessed, but officially, you resigned after the blowup on the _Anabasis_.”

“Is there any point to this, ma'am?”

“One question, Blake. Do you want to be a captain some day?”

“I… I never considered it after—”

“I didn’t ask if you thought you could become a captain. I asked if you wanted to.”

Blake sighed. “Yes.”

“And it’s almost impossible to do it without serving sometime as first officer. Successfully.”

“Exactly. No captain would ever—”

“Really, Blake?”

Suddenly something dawned on Ruby Blake’s face. “You wanted me as first officer. From the beginning.”

“Admirals weren’t too keen on approving it either. I chose not to fight it head on. If you _really_ weren’t suited, it wouldn’t take long to spot.”

“You had doubts.”

“Idiots don’t have doubts. That’s what makes them idiots. You say your story is public, and it is. The thing is, most people don’t bother digging into the details, public or not.”

“Why did you?”

“I had to. Years ago, when I served on the _Republic_.”

“That was the ship that picked up the drifting _Leland_.”

“Yes, it was. And when we were dispatched back to the sector, I was put in charge of the team responsible for tracking down the pirates that attacked you. I needed information about them, and one of the best sources was the proceedings of your court-martial.”

“Not my best moments.”

“I found it very useful. Now, you know what happened in the battle five weeks ago. I lost sixteen crew, including Commander Parn and Lieutenant Commander Arik'lo. My first officer and security chief,” she explains to Evaan. “And some serious damage requiring time at a shipyard for the _Vicksburg_. So I do what anyone in my position does,” she smiles. “I go drinking with my fellow captains.”

“Is there a special place for that?”

Sor Valetta doesn’t answer. “It’s war, and it’s not going well. We’ve all lost people. And then I overhear two captains having outright rejected someone a place on their ship. Quite vehement. I’ve got recordings, by the way. We ever get back, I’ll let you hear the exact words.”

“I ask who the troublemaker is. And when they give your name, I remember my investigation on the _Republic_.”

“And just like that, you decide you want me?”

“Oh, I do my research. I talk to people who were on the _Anabasis_ in the three weeks you were first officer there. I visit Captain Korlieo at the penal colony.”

Blake winces at that. “What did she say?”

“What I needed to make my decision,” sor Valetta deflects. “If I pushed, I probably could have made you first officer right there. But I don’t need to push—I’ve got two senior slots to fill, and no one will balk an eye if I make you security chief. So I call up Nechaev to ask her if you’re still available. And here we are.”

“There are no admirals you have listen to,” Blake says.

“Remember, we’re part of the Alliance now. There are admirals. But they won’t be telling me how to run my ship—just what they need it to do. Come on, Blake. If all I needed was a new security chief, I would have promoted Lieutenant Raya. Which I have now done, by the way.”

“Good choice.”

“Yes, it is. Just like my choice of first officer.”

“You’ve heard—”

“You know what I call your previous times?”

“What, ma'am?”

“Bad luck.”

“That’s it?”

“You’ve had spectacular strikeouts. But you also managed to climb up the ranks _twice_. Neither incident can repeat here.”

“How so?”

“What did you say about the _Anabasis_? ‘Suspicion both above and below’? Not happening. I trust you, and you now have the power to discipline anyone who comes at you with your past.”

Blake gives a sigh. “And the _Leland_ situation?”

Sor Valetta lifts her eyebrows. “We are not lovers.”

“Do you want us to be?”

“Do you?”

“Captain, please. I can’t be uncertain. Not for this.”

“Very well, Commander. No.”

“Thank you. I don’t either.”

“See, Commander? You have absolutely no reason not to tell me I’m making a mistake.”

“You don’t have to listen.”

“No. I don’t. And if you decide to tell I’ve made a mistake promoting you, I won’t.”

Blake is quiet for a while. “I need to talk to you, Captain Verlaine, but it can wait,” sor Valetta says. “Commander, report aboard _Vicksburg_ tomorrow at the start of alpha shift. Have a good time, you two.” She departs without another word.

Verlaine spurts. “What—”

Blake encloses her hand and pulls her up towards her. “I didn’t come just to rant—”

“Why, then?” she whispers.

“For this.” And she kisses her. “I’ve wanted to do this for days.”

Elaan puts her arms around Blake and squeezes closer before kissing back. “So did I.”

* * *

“Append the manual,” Relon announced. “Operating hyperdrive entails yellow-alert status.”

“That serious?” sor Valetta asked her chief engineer.

“It’s the power consumption. We have to shut down most non-essential system to run it. Including weapons, by the way.”

“From what I gather, you don’t fight in hyperspace.”

“True, Captain. I’ve made sure we can reroute power quickly, but ultimately, the _Vicksburg_ wasn’t designed for this.”

“And the hangar?”

“Been ready for days.”

“So, we can do a shakedown cruise?”

“Yes, Captain.”

Her combadge chirped. “Captain sor Valetta, report to General Rieekan’s office.”

“Uh-oh.”

“Ma'am?”

“I have a feeling there won’t be a chance for shakedown. I’ll be right there,” she replied, then switched the comm. “Commander Blake.”

“Captain.”

“Get the crew aboard. Including Helix Squadron.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Captain Verlaine answered. “How long?” Blake inquired.

“I’ve been called in to see General Rieekan,” sor Valetta announced. “If it’s nothing, I’ll apologize to the crew.”

By this time, sor Valetta was out of engineering and in the turbolift on her way to the transporter room. “Beam me down to the command building.”

“Yes, ma'am. Energizing.”

When she materialized, she resumed her stride. “Captain sor Valetta, reporting as ordered,” she said.

Rieekan stood with a number of staff officers, several squadron commanders, and Lieutenant Commander Holdo. He didn’t greet her, instead starting to speak in a grim tone without preamble.

“We’ve received this transmission half an hour ago.”

He tapped a button and a holographic image of a woman with dark brown hair appeared. “This is Princess Leia,” she said. “Four weeks ago, Alliance Intelligence learned about the _Amedda_ project.”

When a circular ship appeared next to the woman’s image, several involuntary gasps of “No!” thundered in the room. One had been Rieekan’s.

“No, it’s not another Death Star,” Leia said. “We have been spared that so far. The ship is only a little under a kilometer in diameter. Unfortunately, there is also no convenient exhaust port that we know of.”

“That small?” an engineering officer asked.

“It is a specialized warship,” Leia continued, “extremely toughly shielded, heavily armed, and armored. The tradeoff meant slow travel speeds, no capacity to launch fighters, and a crew of only twenty, with most weapons relying on automated targeting systems.

"The likely doctrine of usage will be to place these terrors, just as capable of devastating a world as a Star Destroyer, in potentially rebellious systems. It will take an entire fleet to crack one such vessel, costing us dearly and tying up our ships, while at the same time freeing up the rest of the Imperial fleet to attack us.

"Now, the urgent matters. Six hours ago, a commando team infiltrated the first prototype vessel built at Corulag. However, for this mission, the expected crew of twenty has been augmented by a company of Stormtroopers.

"The ship is now under dual control. The Imperials have the external weaponry, and shields, while our team took over sublight engines and communications. The hyperdrive has been damaged in the initial fighting, and neither side is willing to risk sending in repair crews.

"Unfortunately, we are not dealing with a stable situation. All the Empire has to do aboard that ship is wait until our crew dies of thirst. When that happens, the _Amedda_ will become the first in a chain of beads ensnaring the galaxy.”

“Here are the coordinates. I am calling on all available Alliance units. Help the team either take over… or destroy that ship. May the Force be with us all.”

“General, I think we’re the closest.”

“We are. And now that Captain Valetta’s—”

“_Sor_ Valetta,” she automatically corrected. “Sorry—I—”

“The _Vicksburg_,” Rieekan transitioned seamlessly, “has been equipped with a hyperdrive, I think we can do far better than Leia expects.”

“Sir?” Holdo asked.

“She is ready to sacrifice the infiltration team. We won’t have to.”

“You want me to beam them off?”

“Maybe. Maybe we can drop in additional forces and actually take over.”

“I may disappoint you,” sor Valetta said. “Our transporters don’t work through shields.”

“Then we’ll have the commandos try to disable the shields from the inside. They have comms. You get there and let them know.”

Cindy swallowed. The first mission for their new allies. This would make or break their reputation, and if anything went wrong…

“Commander Holdo, you’re taking the _Fortitude_ along. You’re in overall command.”

“Yes, sir,” Holdo said immediately.

Cindy nodded. She did prefer it when she could operate on her own, but she knew full well she didn’t know this new enemy well enough yet. “When, sir?” she asked Rieekan.

“When can you be ready?”

She tapped her combadge. “Sor Valetta to Blake. Status report.”

“Getting the last of Helix Squadron fighters into the bay,” the first officer announced. “Should be done in ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes, General.”

“Holdo?”

“If Captain sor Valetta is willing to send me up with her transporter to save time—I’m ready.”

“Gladly, Commander,” sor Valetta said.

“How does it feel?”

“What, the transporting? It doesn’t feel like anything. You’re here—then you’re there.”

“Let’s do this.”

“It’s easier if we first beam together onto my ship,” Cindy said, tapping her combadge again. “Sor Valetta to _Vicksburg_. Two to beam up.”

They materialized in the transporter room. “Captain,” the operator acknowledge. “And—”

“This is Commander Holdo,” she said. “Unfortunately, we have no time to properly treat a guest. Yenner, get in touch with the _Fortitude_ and beam her over.

"Yes, ma'am.”

“Straight to the coordinates?”

Holdo considered. “Let’s arrive somewhat in front of their path and take bearings.”

“Alright.” As she left, she muttered to herself, “this had better work.”

Ruby Blake rose from the captain’s chair on the bridge when she arrived. “I take it we will not be standing down.”

“No Commander. Relan, can we make hyperspace?”

“Everything seems good, but it’s a new system for us, and—”

“We’re doing it. Keroi, take us away from the base and line up with the _Fortitude_.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Evaan Verlaine entered the bridge. “What’s the mission?”

Sor Valetta first made a shipwide announcement with the condensed version and then gave the rest of her bridge crew a few additional details. “Is this Princess Leia reliable?”

Verlaine stared at her. “Wow. Now I wish she was here.”

“What?”

“I don’t think anyone asked that question in a long time,” Verlaine said. “Yes. Very reliable.”

“Thanks.”

“_Fortitude_ jumped away.”

“Coordinates set?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Yellow alert. Stand by for hyperspace.”

The bridge dimmed. “Power to hyperdrive.”

“Engage.”

In front of them, the stars elongated and then vanished. The ship gave a slight jolt, and then appeared to glide through blue-white whirlpools and clouds.

* * *

“Realspace in three… two… one… revert!”

“Where is the _Fortitude_?”

“Eleven degrees to port, forty K clicks.”

“Hail them.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Amilyn Holdo’s face appeared on the screen. “Ready?”

“Yes, ma'am,” sor Valetta said. “What’s the plan?”

“Leia’s message said our people had _Amedda_‘s communications. Let’s hear from them.”

“This is the Alliance cruiser _Fortitude_. Please respond.”

A voice emerged from the speakers. “Thank the Force. They activated jammers. We’ve only got short-range comms.”

“How are you?”

“Still here. Neither side got engineering. And don’t worry. No matter what, this ship isn’t going into the wider galaxy.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’re on a collision course with a wandering planet, and no one is steering the ship.”

“Listen, we’ve got a plan for getting you out.”

“What—Commander, you seriously can’t—”

“If you disable the shields—”

“_If_? They’ll be guarding—”

“I will do it,” a new voice broke in.

“But—”

“Time to planetary impact?”

“Forty minutes.”

“If the shields aren’t down in half an hour, assume I’m dead.” Sounds of scrambling followed.“

"Do we wait for her?”

“She’s pulled impossible things before.”

“Imperials aren’t listening in on this?” Holdo suddenly demanded.

“First thing we did when taking over was sub our codes for theirs.”

“Alright. Keep the channel open.”

The crew of the _Vicksburg_ watched the spherical ship, pushing its engines to the fullest, accelerate past them. _Vicksburg_ and _Fortitude_ made another, small hyperjump to get ahead—the _Amedda_ has acquired so much sublight speed that neither ship could give chase fairly. Then this hyperjump was followed by two others, getting closer in time. Lieutenant Keroi glared forward at nothing in particular.

“We are _not_ in a race, Lieutenant,” sor Valetta said. “Nobody expects fairness in war.”

“Imperial carrier, forty degrees to port!”

“Captain, deploy Helix Squadron,” Holdo ordered. “I’m launching my fighters. How are things down there?”

“Not sure—she has—wait. I’m reading massive plasma leak on deck eight. That’s where dorsal shield power conduit—”

“Shields down,” Ensign Ferraro announced.

“Take us in, Lieutenant.”

“Transporter room, stand by,” Ruby Blake ordered.

The _Amedda_ was now going a substantial fraction of lightspeed. It zoomed through the window in transpoter range in less than three seconds. “We have them,” the transpoter operator reported. “Eight recovered. Two require medical attention.”

“Dr. Shar, you’ve patients.”

“Prepare to jump,” Holdo ordered. “Fighters, break off!”

“Wait,” the commando in charge of the squad said. “Our leader, she’s still aboard.”

“Ensign?” sor Valetta demanded from the transporter operator.

“Sorry, Captain. These guys were in a cluster and we knew where on the ship to aim. But I couldn’t risk beaming up Imperials by mistake—”

“Can’t you detect a non-human?” another commando snarled. “She’s a—”

“Ensign, stand by! Lieutenant Keroi, jump calculations!”

“Captain, what are you doing?”

“Finishing the job, Commander,” sor Valetta told Holdo. “Jump.”

Before Holdo had time to reply, countermand, or protest, they were in hyperspace. The trip took barely a few seconds, and once more, the Imperial warship was speeding towards them.

“Beam up any nonhumans.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Helix Lead here,” Verlaine’s voice cut in. “Captain, Four lost hyperdrive.”

“Acknowledged,” sor Valetta said. To get the pilot back, they’d have to return, and probably face the Imperial carrier alone.

Then she smiled.

“Lieutenant Keroi, we’ll need some very precise calculations,” she said.

“We’ve got her,” the transporter operator reported. “She’s… uhm…”

“Never mind, have her join her comrades. Keroi, time till _Amedda_ hits that planet?”

“Twenty point five eight seconds.”

“Time our jump back so that we arrive just as the flash hits the carrier.”

“Understood.”

“We’re going in, we shoot at the TIEs, we pull Helix Four into the bay, and we jump.”

“Understood. Course laid in. Timer set for jump.”

“Impact!”

The round warship impacted on the planetoid. Half the sky was flooded with light a thousand times brighter than the sun. Then it vanished as the _Vicksburg_ jumped into hyperspace.

They emerged and had the flash behind them _again_. They were ready for it, though, and used the few seconds of confusion to their advantage.

“Everyone’s in,” Blake reported after hearing from the tractor beam operator who dragged the damaged X-Wing into the docking bay.

“We’ve got about a hundred missiles heading for us, though.”

“Oh, looks like we’re important now,” sor Valetta smirked. “Keroi?”

“Course back to the base calculated and laid in.”

“Jump.”


	6. Vicksburg 5

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” Thanya Ferraro said.

“I’m alright,” Hue Tico muttered.

“I’ve almost had to amputate your arm, young man,” Dr. Shar grumbled.

“Well, thanks you for not doing that, Doctor.”

The Andorian shook his head. “Pilots.”

“Come on,” Thanya stroked the newly healed arm and walked him out of sickbay.

“How’d it go?”

“_Very_ well, according to Captain sor Valetta. NO casualties on our side, and mission accomplished. Commander Holdo is mad, but she can’t do anything about it.”

“Why?”

“She was going to abandon the commando leader on the _Amedda_, but the Captain went for the rescue before she could give the order.”

“I didn’t take your captain for a big risk-taker.”

Thanya considered. “She’s not in the habit of explaining herself,” she said. “But if I was in her place, I’d have felt the need to justify the trust General Rieekan placed in me. The first mission needed to go off better than perfect.”

“I remember feeling like that, too.”

“You don’t, anymore?”

“Everyone has a story of how they ended up in the Alliance,” Hue said carefully. “But most don’t tell it.”

“I don’t need to tell you _ours_. You’ve been there.”

“Well… you should hear mine.”

“You don’t have to—”

“It’s not a major traumatic moment,” he said. “Which might make it unusual, actually. I was a police detective on Hays Major when we got several incidents of bombs blowing up mining equipment. We learned who it was quickly enough—but we just couldn’t find him to make the arrest. It was like he could see us coming.”

“That’s… strange.”

“You’ve seen it.”

“What?”

“Voss Torel. He was our elusive bomber.”

“What?! You’ve got to tell the Captain—”

“It won’t help,” Hue shrugged. “I haven’t finished the story.”

Thanya frowned and crossed her arms. “Secrets rarely help.”

“It’s not a secret—no, really. You can tell your captain. Just tell everything. I don’t need to tell you Torel’s dangerous. Frankly, I would have given up long ago—except that eventually, we _did_ arrest him.”

“He escaped you like he did us?” Thanya guessed.

“No. Not like you. We were _very_ careful. Arrest, trial, conviction. This takes time. By the time we’re ready, the company our government contracted with to use their penal colony had been taken over by the Empire.”

“Coincidence?”

“I don’t know. At the time, I didn’t care. As far as we were concerned, there was only one change—a extra copy of the case form had to be made, and signed off by the commander or designated officer of Hays imperial garrison. We followed procedure.”

“And what happened?”

“For two years, nothing. _Exactly_ two years. To the day. That night, fourteen bombs go off all over the planet. Three people are killed, but it’s clear that they were just collateral damage. The targets were the locations.

He ticked off on his fingers. "My department’s archive office. My personal safe. Richo City Police archive. Hays Major Office of Government Records. Several backup data centers used by the government.” He sighed. “After sifting through the debris, running all sorts of forensics, and restoring what we can, we end up with _zero_ documentation that Voss Torel ever existed.”

“Whoa…”

“I went to the Imperial garrison, and asked to see their copy. Their facilities are separate from ours, and no bombs hit them. But they don’t have any either.”

“Uh-huh. Total coincidence, of course.”

He gave a sad smile. “There weren’t too many ways I could see this going. If I pressed, I wouldn’t be able to get far before something happened to me. Another bomb. A frame-up. And if anyone started investigating _my_ case too deeply, they’d end up in the same place.”

She took his hand and squeezed. “Obviously you pressed anyway—just in a different capacity.”

He nodded. “I also saw that I could simply drop it. Pretend that the archives contained the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Might have been even good for my career. Lead detective, police commissioner… I might even pretend I was doing it so that once I had more power, I could open up the pursuit again.”

“Sorry,” she said. “I’ve never had anything like this to deal with. I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s my life,” he shrugged. “I don’t need to deal with it, I’ve already made my choice. Day after the archive bomb damage was declared mitigated, I resigned and took the first ship off-planet. Getting justice for Voss Torel’s victims won’t happen until the Empire is brought down. So I’m doing my part.

"You know,” he breathed out, “Can’t say why, but telling that story made me feel better.”

“It doesn’t usually?”

“It’s been a while since I did. Like I said—most people’s stories are much more traumatic. Just Alderaan…”

“I’m sure you’ve much happier stories to tell. Why don’t we spend a nice evening trading some?”

“Why, Ensign Ferraro,” he declared, “are you asking me on a date?”

Thanya laughed. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

“In that case… I’m all yours.”

* * *

“Tell me what happened again, Doctor.”

“I haven’t seen the _immediate_ aftermath–but according to witnesses, this woman collapsed in pain as soon as she was beamed aboard. She nearly hurt herself with her own weapons.”

“The weapons are… something odd.”

Dr. Shar nodded. “This is more Blake’s specialty,” he said, but he picked up a metal cylinder and showed it to her. When he thumbed a switch, a meter-long column of white light emerged.

“Very dangerous,” he said, and shut it off.

“So how’s she doing?”

“Not speaking much. Asked me for some technical equipment, but she won’t tell anyone what her tinkering is for. The symptoms are typical of a heavy drug withdrawal, but there’s no sign of any substance like that. She’s physically weak, but that recovery is going well. Of course, I could be completely wrong. Maybe it’s normal for her species.”

“Relon to the captain.”

“Sor Valetta here.”

“Could you and Dr. Shar come to the ready room? Our guest requested to speak with you.”

“Looks like we’re finally getting some answers. On our way.”

The leader of the commandos who volunteered for a dangerous solo mission to bring down the _Amedda_‘s shields was trying hard to appear relaxed.

“How are you doing–?” Cindy realized she didn’t know the alien woman’s name.

“You can call me Fulcrum,” their visitor replied. “I’m a Togruta, but I doubt that tells you anything.”

“Captain–we owe her a _major_ apology.”

Sor Valetta raised her eyebrows. “I don’t understand.”

“Tell me Captain, what do you know of the Jedi?” she asked.

“I just did,” sor Valetta said.

“I see. A lot of background, then. Jedi Knights used knowledge of the Force to serve the Republic for millennia. The Force is an energy field created by all living things. It can be used to manipulate the world around us.”

“Sounds mystical.”

“It’s very real. And I was a Jedi once. But your teleporter took my abilities away from me.”

“The transporter?”

“Here, Captain,” Relon handed her a Padd with figures.

“What are we looking at?”

“Midichlorian counts,” Fulcrum said. “It’s a way to measure a being’s affinity for the Force. You’ve already met someone with the skills. Your encounters with Voss Torel, what he managed to do?”

“It doesn’t seem to require any energy field. Besides, he’s been beamed, too.”

“I know,” Relon said. “We’ve done quite a bit of testing to figure out what happened. Torel read as human, so the transporter used standard protocols. But we don’t have a Togruta reading on file, so Fulcrum was registered as unknown. That kicks in additional filters meant to keep out new diseases. Unfortunately, that’s what it mistook those midicholirans for.”

“My count was around six thousand,” Fulcrum said. “After this, zero. That should be impossible, naturally. Even _plants_ have counts of fifty to a hundred. And yet here we are.”

“Imagine our transporter made someone go _blind_, Captain.”

“Could we restore it?”

Relon shook his head. “Not that easy. We can reconfigure the transporter so that it doesn’t happen again to someone else, but none of our experiments restored a midichlorian-depleted cell.”

“I’m sorry,” sor Valetta said. “We will do everything to help.”

“Thank you,” Fulcrum said. “It helps somewhat to know that I would have died there without you. Given a choice of death or losing the Force, I probably would have agreed. It’s just doesn’t feel right for such a choice to have been made by coincidences of nature.

"The Rebellion needs people who can use the Force, though. The Empire has Voss Torel… and others. I still have knowledge. If you really want to atone–permit me to stay aboard _Vicksburg_.”

That was unexpected. “Why? Please give me a full answer. I’m not in the mood for mystery agendas after Torel–”

Fulcrum lifted her hand. “No mystery. There are members of your crew who can be trained in the Jedi arts. If they’re willing, I would like to do it.”

“You think training these… Jedi would help–?”

“Help the struggle continue. Help keep hope in the galaxy. The Force can be used for great evil, as well. The Empire has such people. If I can’t do these things direclty, the best way to aid is to teach others.” 

“I see.” Cindy didn’t think fear showed on her face. “If what you say is true, we do owe you. My crew aren’t children and I’m not their mother. You can make your offer and see if any take you up on it. If it doesn’t interfere with other duties, I won’t object. You can remain aboard… on one condition.”

“Yes, ma'am?”

“If you’re to become part of my crew, I’ll need your name. Sorry. Starfleet doesn’t accept coded aliases.”

“Oh,” the woman laughed. “Ahsoka. Ahsoka Tano.”

* * *

“Well?”

“I was right,” Ahsoka Tano declared. “You could be a Jedi.”

“So what now?”

“It’s up to you,” she said. “How did your captain phrase it? 'My crew are not children and I’m not their mother.’ And even if this wasn’t the case, forcing this on someone is a very bad idea.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve told you a little about the Inquisitors and Darth Vader. They have the training, but are driven by anger. If it’s not something you want, I’ll stay away.”

“No… I’m very curious. And… I need to be sure.”

“Sure about what?”

“Uhm… what do I even call you? I’m too used to only being around people who can be addressed by rank and surname.”

The tips of Ahsoka’s montrals curved upwards. “Ahsoka will do,” she said with amusement. “Though normally, one’s Jedi trainer is addressed as Master.”

“Master Tano, then?”

“You’re taking it up?”

She nodded.

“Training in the Force requires honesty. Most importantly, honesty with yourself. You said you needed to be sure… about what?”

“Oh. Well… I know I’ve got quick reflexes… and other skills… but is that me or the Force?”

“You _are_ the Force. A part of it, connected to the whole.”

“Somehow it feels like my accomplishments are diminished.”

“Talent with the Force can be wasted like any other, and it’s up to the person to see that it doesn’t.”

“Alright. So being driven by the need to prove oneself is fine? It’s not like anger?”

“Not at all. We’re all driven by more than one thing. If fear or revenge was foremost on your mind, I would not take you up.”

“Fear was never a problem for me. And I’m new to this galaxy. Who would I wish revenge on?”

“First of all,” Ahsoka lectured, “it doesn’t matter if revenge can’t be realized. Second… Voss Torel.”

She slumped. “You’ve heard.”

“Word gets around. Hue Tico, for instance, would not be a good candidate for Jedi training.”

“Should I tell him that?”

“I already did. He laughed. That man knows himself well.”

“I don’t think we’ve seen the last of Voss Torel. I’ll shoot the bastard without hesitation when I see him, but unless it’s an assigned mission, I won’t go out of my way to seek him out. For one thing, that lets him choose the turf.”

Tano rose and smiled. “Very well. Let’s go, Padawan Blake.”

“Padawan?”

“Apprentice,” she explained.

“You want to start now?”

“Why not?”

“I’ve a date.”

“Oh. Jedi aren’t supposed to form romantic attachments.”

“Then I’m out.”

“I figured. That’s why I’ll be ignoring that rule. Have fun, Commander. I’ll see you tomorrow.”


	7. Vicksburg 6

_Vicksburg_ emerged from hyperspace. “Status.”

“Escortees accounted for. _Bounty IX, Sherra, Hydian Way_ and _Summer Feast_.”

“Good. Open a comm channel. Echo Base, this is the USS _Vicksburg_, escorting food supplies.”

“No reply, Captain.”

“Scan.”

“No active readings. And…”

“What is it?”

Ensign Ferraro gulped. “I’m reading numerous starship wrecks. Transports and starfighters, and in the asteroid field, pieces of Star Destroyers.”

“Red alert! Hail the cargo ships.”

“Channel open.”

“Captain sor Valetta here. We cannot contact Echo Base, and the system bears traces of a battle. Can you make it to Rendezvous… 12?”

Three of the vessels assented. “_Hydian Way_ here. We don’t have the fuel.”

“Beam a concentrated fuel tank over,” sor Valetta ordered. “Then go,” she ordered. “I’m taking _Vicksburg_ to Hoth orbit.”

“Understood, ma'am. Good luck.”

“I have a feeling we’ll need it.”

“Commander Blake, I want you to lead an away team down to Echo Base.”

“Permission to bring Master Tano along?”

“Granted. I want to know what happened here. Ensign Ferraro, what can you tell us?”

“Ion cannon destroyed by orbital bombardment…”

“How? The base had a shield—”

“Shield generator wrecked by ground fire.”

“Scan for lifeforms. If there are survivors…”

“No good.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know the minerals in that area interfere with our scanners. Without beacons, I can’t tell humans and wampas apart. Not from orbit.”

“Alright. Commander Blake, your away team will search the base. Meanwhile, scan the outlying areas. There may have been people too far away… patrols, hunters…”

“Yes, ma'am.”

The ship had made two three-hour polar orbits while the away team produced regular reports from the ground. Numerous live wampas scavenged the area, eating both rebel and stormtrooper corpses—but everyone they found had been killed by blaster fire, not teeth and claws. Not a single living soul; not a single functioning droid.

“Control computers’ memory is wiped,” Blake called in from what used to be the command center. “No record of the battle.”

“Vader was here,” Ahsoka Tano commented.“

"Captain? I don’t understand this.”

“They had warning,” sor Valetta announced.

“Ma'am?”

“Warning. They knew the Empire was coming in advance. At least a day. They evacuated as quickly as they could—but not quickly enough to avoid a fight. No trace means the Empire can’t find them again easily.”

“Neither can we.”

“We know what to look for. Alright, Commander. Gather your people and stand by to beam up. They’re not here, and the Empire has no reason to return, either. Let’s go. Sor Valetta out.”

When the channel was cut, she was met by a hard stare of Captain Verlaine. “Yes?”

“Where are we going?”

“I planned to return to Rendezvous 12 and see that the food supplies we were escorting get somewhere useful.”

“They will. The _Fortitude_ picked them up.”

“I see. This is a warning to once again prepare to deal with the thorns of one Commander Holdo.”

“I wouldn’t put it that way, ma'am…”

“You have an alternate destination?”

Verlaine didn’t speak directly. “The Holonet is too big for even Imperial Intelligence to monitor everything, much less us.”

Sor Valetta nodded, inviting the squadron commander to sit. “You can get useful stuff by using narrow criteria,” she added. “You have to be careful your criteria don’t attract the Empire’s attention, though.”

“And what sort of information net did you cast?”

“Trouble for Alderaanians. Well, more trouble than we are in already.”

“And?”

“General Rieekan is from Alderaan.”

Sor Valetta jerked up. “What happened?”

“He’s been caught by a bounty hunter on Holminor. The Bounty hunter will turn him over to the Empire.”

“So what do you want us to do?”

“Go to Holminor and rescue him,” Verlaine declared.

“Why? If the bounty hunter already caught him, why would they still be on Holminor?”

“You don’t know what Holminor is, Captain?”

“No.”

“It’s an ocean world with the strongest tides in the galaxy. The one landmass shallow enough to ever get above the water does so for a few hours every four days. Unless our bounty hunter’s ship doubles as a submarine, we can make it.”

“_Vicksburg_ can double as a submarine.”

“Really?”

“Not a very good one,” sor Valetta admitted. “And I’ve only made the manuever in holodeck simulations. If I wanted to go under the sea, I wouldn’t have joined Starfleet.”

“We don’t have to. Just wait till the tide goes down in…” she checked her watch, “…eighty-five hours. If we’re in orbit, we can stop that hunter.”

“Interesting,” sor Valetta said.

“Convenient,” someone interrupted.

“Ruby!”

The first officer, still in her cold-weather gear, strode onto the bridge and gave her girlfriend a quick kiss before sitting down in her designated chair. “The away team is aboard. I would say mission accomplished—but you heard the reports. There’s nothing left.”

“A lone Alliance ship, taking the Empire on by ourselves,” Verlaine smiled. “Brings back memories.”

“You said it was convenient? Why?”

“Captain, come on. A high ranking Alliance member is captured—alright. Someone we know personally—”

“Everyone knows someone personally.”

Verlaine frowned. “No, I see the point.”

“Yeah,” Blake plowed on. “He’s on a planet we can get to before we he can leave? There’s time, alright. Time enough to set a trap for us.”

“So what do we do? Abandon Rieekan?” Verlaine demanded.

“I’m saying—”

“No arguments!”

“Captain?” Blake looked at sor Valetta, who, despite the snap order of seconds before, was smiling.

“Both sides of the case have been made,” she said. “New evidence isn’t coming in—not soon enough. You can rehash the same things in different words, which is boring, you can leave the realm of ideas and get personal, which is bad for morale, or you can stop and let me make the decision, which I’d have to do anyway.”

Silence dropped. “Commander Relon, are we good for hyperspace?”

“I can give you range of 56,232 light-years.”

“Lieutenant Keroi, set course for Holminor. If we can’t make it, find a fuel depot that won’t take us too far out of the way. We need to be there in three days.”

* * *

“Standard orbit over Holminor, ma'am. Tide outgoing within fifty minutes.”

“No Imperial vessels. No trace that anything big has been here recently.”

“Helix squadron standing by for launch,” Verlaine declared over the comm.

“I’d rather not,” sor Valetta said. “We know what we’re looking for?”

“Yes, ma'am.” Thanya Ferraro had spent the hyperspace trip with Lieutenant Samat, the Helix pilot responsible for squadron’s information, Hue Tico, and Verlaine to learn everything possible about the bounty and the being who claimed it. They had a name, Shira Kord, and a ship registry—a KR-299 highly modified yacht build at Fondor, named _Honor Bound_.

Sor Valetta had been there for one session, when Verlaine explained, in general, how bounty hunting worked in this galaxy. She said little, and didn’t come back, only pressing Blake to ensure that Ferraro input all the gathered information into the ship’s computers. Not that the diligent ensign needed such prodding.

“How’ll this work? As soon as water level drops far enough, they’ll open the docking bay roofs and everyone’ll blast off.”

“I doubt there’ll be many KR-299s.”

“No, but you can’t shoot at them, if General Rieekan will be aboard.”

“Tempting as it may be, I wasn’t planning on it.” She activated an intership comm. “Commander Raya.”

“Assemble a heavily armed away team, set weapons for stun, and assemble in the transporter room. Wait… make that two teams. Ensign Ferraro, have the coordinates of any KR-299 detected automatically sent down to the Chief Helie. I don’t want any delays.”

“Understood ma'am.”

“That’s it, Captain?” Blake fidgeted.“

"Do you doubt Commander Raya?”

“No, ma'am.”

“If the environment down there was different, I’d do it differently. With, shall we say, extra flair.”

“Flair, Captain?” Verlaine asked.

“Hmm. It’s really tempting to wait until the bounty walks up to his ship, Rieekan at blaster point, and destroy that vessel with a well-targeted phaser beam from orbit. Even better, to make that phaser beam imitate a lightning strike.”

“But now…”

“Everyone will already be in the ship, waiting to take off as soon as it’s clear. So, we do it this way. Beam in the away team, stun everyone, and then figure out.”

As the lone landmass started emerging, stadium-like roofs of the surface spaceports began opening up. Each one was immediately target by the full power of _Vicksburg_‘s scanners. Five or six ports produced nothing until…

“KR-299 detected!”

“Away team A!” Raya shouted. “On the pads!”

“Energizing!”

Raya kept her combadge active but one-way. The last thing an away team in the middle of combat needed was confusing orders from people who weren’t there. So sor Valetta and the rest of the bridge crew first heard one phaser shot, then another… and then, unexpectedly, a barrage. Blast after blast from the security team’s phaser rifles—but strangely, not a single sound typical of this galaxy’s blasters. Things went quiet after about three seconds, and were followed by numerous exhales.

“Finally,” someone said.

“Commander,” another security officer called out to Raya. “Look.”

In the next instant, the comm channel became two-way with a tap from the security chief. “Captain. There’s been a complication.”

“Is General Rieekan safe?”

“Yes, ma'am. Both he and the bounty hunter are stunned.”

“That was the plan.”

“Yes, ma'am, but—team, let’s tally up the shots.”

Each member checked his, her, or its phaser rifle and called out the number. “Nineteen total,” Raya quickly added them. “One to stun Rieekan… and eighteen for the bounty hunter. He only went down after being hit _eighteen_ times.”

“Are you sure you didn’t miss?”

Raya didn’t bother replying to Blake. The Captain took a different tack. “So?” she demanded “There are species resistant…”

“He’s human.”

“Or he looks human,” sor Valetta reminded Raya.

“Actually, I’m pretty sure he is. You see, Captain, we couldn’t find details because Shira Kord is a false identity. Our bounty hunter is Voss Torel.”

* * *

The silence lasted five seconds before sor Valetta spoke. Opening a new comm channel, she produced no intonation as she summoned the person. “Dr. Shar.”

“Is everyone alright?”

“Beam down a quadruple dose of thamissium to Lieutenant Commander Raya. She needs it in thirty seconds.”

Dr. Shar was heard to gulp, but then only said, “Yes, ma'am, and cut the comm. "Raya,” the captain ordered, “as soon as you have it, inject Torel.”

“Understood.”

“Blake, you have the bridge.” She rose. “Lieutenant Kuznetsov,” she called out to the second away team’s leader, “get ready to escort the prisoner.” With that, she stepped out into the turbolift.

“Dr. Shar,” Commander Blake called the chief medical officer. “General Rieekan may need assistance.”

“I’ll be ready. Quadruple dose?”

“I can’t exactly call the captain paranoid,” Blake said. “Not after what happened last time.”

“Everyone’s aboard,” chief Helie reported within a few minutes.

“Kuznetsov, get Torel to the brig. Have one of your team members cuff themselves to him.”

The captain spoke in the same, machine-like manner that she’d used from the moment the name “Voss Torel” reached her ears. Kuznetsov acknowledged the order and took the unconscious prisoner off Raya. The security chief told two of her team to bring Rieekan to sickbay and headed up to the bridge.

“Helix squadron, you may stand down,” Blake said.

“What happened?” Verlaine asked. “Did—”

“Rieekan is safe,” she assured her. Then, after making sure the comm was down, she whispered, “I’m not so sure about the captain.”

When Raya arrived, Blake preempted any questions by simply shrugging, and let the security chief take her station. “Eighteen shots,” she muttered.

“Kuznetsov here,” she received a report. “Torel’s been locked up, but then the captain kicked me out. Kicked all of us out.”

“Excuse me?”

Before a discussion could begin—and Blake really didn’t want speculation that sor Valetta decided to torture someone bandied about, no matter how much apalling sense it made, the captain returned. She was shaking her head, but didn’t seem robotic anymore. She sat in the captain’s chair—Ruby didn’t bother switching when she’d left.

“Shipwide comm channel,” she ordered the communication officer. “Crew, guests, and passengers of the USS _Vicksburg_, this is your captain. As of this moment, the ship’s brig is under indefinite lockdown, and access to it and all its facilities has been sealed by my personal code.

"No access will be permitted to the brig without my presence and supervision. No communication channel will be permitted to penetrate inside the brig. Nothing is to be transported in or out of the brig. Any attempt to gain unauthorized access is grounds for court-martial.

"Sor Valetta out.”

“Chief Engineer Relon, I want you to set up an improvised brig in Cargo Bay 1 for ordinary miscreants.” Blake almost smiled. The obvious joke—where would someone court-martialed be sent if the brig was off-limits—had apparently occurred to the captain, as well. It was even understandable—although disturbing. In the captain’s absence, the first officer, chief engineer, and another department head—the chief medical officer, for instance—had the authority and codes to order a self-destruct of the ship.

Now, looking inside the brig required more authority than destroying it, along with the rest of _Vicksburg_.

“What do we do now?”

“First things first. We need to resupply. I don’t care where, as long as it’s not an Imperial trap. I’m going to see General Rieekan. He might have some ideas. We’ll all get a good night’s sleep.”

“And in the morning?” Blake prompted.

“In the morning, we’ll speak with the prisoner.”

* * *

“Carlist, are you sure?”

“I’ve had quite enough of his company, Cindy.”

“Are you really alright?”

“I wasn’t tortured,” he said.

“I know.”

“He will try to convince you of your own incompetence.”

“Thanks for the heads up. Now, how about you, Blake and Verlaine put your heads together and come up with the best use of _Vicksburg_ for the Alliance right now. General,” she resumed formality as she stepped out into the ship’s corridor.

“Sor Valetta to Lieutenant Tico,” she called the pilot. “Meet me on Deck 11.”

“Yes, ma'am. Uhm, Ensign Ferraro wishes to accompany—”

“Denied. Sorry, but the fewer people come in contact with him, the better. You already know him, and I offered Rieekan a place since he was just his prisoner, but he refused. For now, it’ll have to do.”

“I… I see, ma'am. I have to do this.”

“So do I.”

She lifted a PADD, input a long code and placed it in a reception slot on the wall. The computer chirped and slid open the brig door. The two of them walked inside, and it closed behind them.

Voss Torel was lying on the mattress in his cell. Upon seeing them, he sat up, ruffled his hair, and met their eyes. His eyebrows went up.

“Why do I have a hangover?” he asked.

“What?” That wasn’t a question Tico expected.

“Normally, the knockout drugs we use have neutralizers for the unpleasant side effects,” sor Valetta said. “In this case, the patient’s comfort had been deprioritized.”

“I didn’t take you for one to enjoy power for its own sake, Captain.”

“I’m not enjoying anything about this.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Lucky,” she declared. “Believe me, Shira Kord being you came as a surprise. I’m not sure if I should consider your career change a move up or down.”

“Whatever it is, you are to blame.”

“What?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I got fired from ISB. Getting an entire light cruiser wrecked while failing to secure your teleporter wasn’t taken well.”

“Hardly sufficient punishment, but now we can arrange for more.”

“I believe your Federation has outlawed the death penalty. And any prison you put me in, I’ll escape. It’s sort of my specialty.”

“That’s a specialty?” Tico demanded.

“Yes. That’s what I did after taking care of my records from Hays Major police, detective. The ISB would set me up with a cover story and send me into a prison they wanted secure. I had a fixed time—a few days, a few weeks, once three months—after which I’d be released. But I got paid a bonus if I escaped before the time expired. I always collected. I let them know how I did it, and people responsible were punished. It’s hilarious when wardens get thrown into their own prison.”

“What happened to your arm?”

“Nothing. Synthflesh covering. Don’t want memorable details.”

“Take it off.”

“Make me.”

“What?”

He laughed. “Ahh, unexpected limits.” He gave light tap to the forcefield between them. “You won’t drop this with only the detective here as backup. I have complete bodily autonomy in this cell. If I want to, I can strip naked and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“What’s the point?” Tico asked.

“Is there one?” sor Valetta seconded.

“The point is, Captain, you are not as in control as you think you are.”

Hue looked seething. “Is that what all the bombs were about, too?”

The captain put a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t need to outrun the bear,” she muttered.

“What?”

“How’d you get away last time?” she tacked.

“Sorry, Captain. You’re not paying my bonus here,” Torel said. “As for pubnishing those responsible, that already happened.”

It took a little time for sor Valetta to process. “Are you saying,” she steamed, “that Chief Mirren _let_ you out? And you killed her for it?”

“Like I said—pay my bonus, and we’ll talk.”

Sor Valetta had to strain to not reveal anger or frustration. She turned to Hue. “Lieutenant, is there anything else?”

“I doubt it, Captain. We have nothing he wants—”

“Sure you do. My freedom.”

“Not happening.”

“—The ISB probably immunized him to truth drugs.”

“We’ll see if Dr. Shar can produce something around that,” sor Valetta suggested.

“Good luck,” Torel quipped.

“Alright. We’ll leave him alone and try again in… hang on. Computer.”

“Captain,” the ship’s voice replied.

“Stop day and night lighting shifts in the brig. Ambient light, constant round the clock. Shut down all time displays in the brig. Randomize the prisoner’s meal delivery times.”

“Acknowledged, Captain.” Several screens on the brig walls winked out. Smiling, sor Valetta turned to the cell.

“You like planning things, don’t you? Let’s see how well you do that when you have no clue how much time has passed.” And with that, she and Hue strode out.

When the brig was sealed with her personal code again, sor Valetta sighed. “It’s not enough.”


	8. Vicksburg 7

“Interesting,” Cindy sor Valetta studied the bright lights outside.

“Beautiful,” Ruby Blake seconded.

“What is it?” Thanya Ferraro asked.

“It’s a dense ring of ice fragments, like those commonly found around gas giants,” Evaan Verlaine explained. “Only this one is much bigger, and surrounds a small black hole. The accretion disk is very bright, so all the shards sparkle like gems.”

“Very pretty,” sor Valetta agreed, “but I’m not in the mood for sightseeing.”

Verlaine laughed. “I imagine not,” she said. “There’s a station in the ring called the Diamond Depot. We can get refueled there.”

“And they won’t sell us out to the Empire?”

“Even if they do, we’ll have ample warning to get away. You see, the station is deep _inside_ the ring.”

“We have to maneuver through all these rocks?” Keroi demanded.

“What, you not up for it, Lieutenant?” Verlaine countered. “I can—”

“Sorry. Stick to you starfighter,” Keroi snapped. “I’m the one flying the _Vicksburg_.” He considered. “If we slow down and have tractor beams knock the rocks out of the way, we can do it.”

“Why there?”

“Same reason it’s pretty. The accretion makes the energy practically free—so you can use it to synthesize fuel out of raw ice. You try this anywhere else, and you’ll burn more fuel than you make.

"Fortunately, we still have food containers that didn’t fit on the transports in the cargo bay. That’s what they need the most. Well, that and labor.”

“Labor?”

“Yeah. Warn your crew, Captain. While it’s not as bad as it could be—the managers despise slavery—you could easily find yourself on a years-long contract for the ice mining and refining, because of the fine print. And it doesn’t pay well at all.”

“And the Empire?”

“It’s not a big enough operation for them to bother with. And if they come chasing us, they’ll have to slow down to get through the ring, giving us time to get away.”

“Right. Lieutenant Keroi, take us in.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

The navigation seemed to go smoothly for the first twenty minutes, with only a few impacts from small fragments that harmlessly shattered on the _Vicksburg_‘s shields. Then, without warning, the viewscreen flashed with white light and the entire ship shuddered.

“What was that?”

“I don’t know,” Ferraro said. “I didn’t see anything until—”

“Do a sensor backlog trace,” sor Valetta ordered.

Another impact and flash. “Lieutenant!”

“It’s coming out of nowhere, Captain.”

“Nothing comes out of nowhere. Stop.”

“Stopping, ma'am.”

They were hit again. “Engineer Relon, damage assesment.”

“The incidents do not carry sufficient energy to penetrate the shields—”

“Good.”

“—unless they were sustained.”

And almost as if the words made the event, the barrage began.

Strike. Flash. Strike. Strike.

“Mines,” Verlaine said. “I guess the Empire found a way.”

“Increase power to shields. Relan! How much can we hold?”

“An the current rate, two minutes seven seconds.”

“Red alert. Reroute all available power.”

“I think I’ve isolated the mine’s thruster signature,” Ferraro said. “We can target them—”

“Fire at will.”

Blake was already at the weapons station and coordinated the counterattack. The mine assault reduced in intensity as _Vicksburg_ lashed out, but lasted almost three more minutes before stopping. Sor Valetta kept the ship on red alert longer than the attack afterwards.

“Any more out there?”

“If their engines are inactive, there could be thousands,” Ferraro said. “Scanners aren’t worth a damn in this soup.”

“Maybe we can bargain a reduced fuel price for finding this minefield,” Verlaine suggested.

Sor Valetta shrugged. “If you can, fine. But if they get the bright idea to enlist our services to clear it out—tell them to get lost. The _Vicksburg_ is not a minesweeper.”

“Got it.”

“Blake, you have the bridge. Verlaine, I’m leaving fuel negotiations to you. She tapped a combadge. "Commander Raya.”

“Something wrong?”

“I’m giving a standown from red alert, but it’s not for your people yet. This is too good an opportunity for someone like Voss Torel.”

Blake and Verlaine exchanged a look, but no words as the Captain left.

“You think it’s possible?”

“It’s unlikely,” Blake replied. However, she made a quick check that all weapons on her person were in working order. “I’m pretty sure I would have felt it in the Force.”

“Would Master Tano call that arrogance?”

Keroi interjected. “I wonder if what you train to do is anything like telepathy?”

“Speaking of that, why didn’t Ahsoka offer to train you?”

“She did. I refused,” Keroi said.

“Why?”

“Isn’t it obvious? The last thing I want is to _enhance_ my mental perceptions. Heightened sensitivity is just as problematic for a Betazoid as total lack of telepathy. Especially since she explained that as a Jedi, I’m likely to find myself fighting close up. Feeling someone who dies. Feeling someone I kill.”

“Oh. I didn’t think—I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. So as I said—from the few glimpses of Torel’s mind I got—and because I got so few—I know he can control himself. So I’d hesitate in my confidence, Commander. You may be feeling what he wants you to feel.”

“Well, he hasn’t felt his way out of the brig,” sor Valetta declared from the turbolift. “But speaking of—Lieutenant Keroi, if you are willing, I’d like you to use your abilities on Torel.”

“Read his mind.”

“Yes. From outside the brig. He won’t be aware it’s happening.”

Keroi considered. “Not right now, Captain. Once we leave this ring and we can hand _Vicksburg_ to a less experienced pilot, and I’m rested—why not? Did he say anything?”

“Asked what happened,” the captain said. “I told him we destroyed a couple of hundred Imperial ships. Technically true.”

“There it is,” Ferraro said as they moved into a clearing within the ring. At the center was a metallic octahedron with long booms extending from each vertex. “Diamond Depot. It does look a little like a diamond.”

* * *

“Can I come in?” Captain Verlaine spoke into the intercom outside sor Valetta’s ready room.

“Enter.”

Sor Valetta wasn’t alone. Her office desk had been cleared on one half and topped with a modest array of plates. General Rieekan sat in one of the visitor’s chairs and drank something hot from a white mug.

“Oh. I didn’t know you had company.”

“Please. You said it often enough—the replicators make us the best-served ship in the Alliance. You can have breakfast with us. What can I do for you? If there’s problem with the fuel—”

“No, no problem—though Ruby did have to firmly refuse paying with mineclearing service.”

Sor Valetta grinned. “So what’s the problem?”

“Once we arranged the fuel, I went to the station.”

“I’d have thought you’d want to spend time with Commander Blake, and she’d not take shore leave without me knowing.”

“I went by myself,” Verlaine said. “It wasn’t about recreation… well, not only that. I did want an opportunity to watch the spectacle from a large port than what we have on the _Vicksburg_.

"Wouldn’t it be most spectacular from your cockpit?”

“Probably, but the station would never authorize a launch. Anyway, I’d gone for another reason. We have an undercover agent on the station. I made a signal, and a few hours later, made a dead-drop pickup.”

She reached into her pocket and placed a datacard on the captain’s table. “I could tell it’s legit, but nothing beyond that. I don’t have the decryption codes.”

“Let me see,” Rieekan said. He slid the card into his datapad and began to read. “Interesting,” he finally said. “Something right up your alley, Captain.”

“What do you mean?”

“We have a scouting team on Peral,” he said. “They were going to gather the information, and then launch a liberation campaign.”

“Peral, Peral… ” sor Valetta thought. “That’s right next to Fondor.”

“That’s right,” Verlaine said. “_Were_ going to? Not anymore?”

“The Empire brought in an expanded garrison and started a crackdown. An attack now would only cost lives.”

“So what do they want?”

“Peral is covered in perpetual mist, making most orbital assets useless. The Empire has a robust air defense network and tightly controls the spaceports. Rescue by anyone else would be dangerous. But the _Vicksburg_ doesn’t need to land.”

“We can beam them right out,” sor Valetta finished. “And where then?”

“Another neighbor of a major industrial world,” Rieekan replied. “Probably a better chance there. Sulon.”

There was a pause. “You are hesitant, Captain,” Rieekan said. “I don’t want to order you—”

“No… we’ll do it. It seems worthy.”

“But?” Verlaine prompted.

“I don’t like having these agents effectively decide our destinations. Intelligence is vital, but it’s always been a supporting service for the military. When it’s the other way…”

“I don’t know what I can do to reassure you,” Rieekan said. “Considering the last time you followed an intelligence tip…”

“We rescued you.” That’s the most important thing that happened.

“You’ve already decided to do this.”

“Yes. Yes, I have. I still worry.”

* * *

“I just can’t get it out of my mind!”

“The sensor anomaly you saw?”

“What else?” Thanya Ferraro snapped. “Hue, listen—what if this proves something dangerous, something I didn’t alert the captain in time about?”

“Why didn’t you when you—”

“I couldn’t pinpoint it—and everyone was more concerned with the mines.”

Hue rose. “Alright, Thanya. Obviously we’re not going to have fun until you get this out of your head. Come on.”

Power requirements forced _Vicksburg_ to shut down her holodecks while in hyperspace. When this policy was first made, it prompted a scramble for alternate forms of entertainment; one of which Thanya decided to put to a more serious use now. It was a small holoprojector that could fit on a desk; while lacking the immersion effect of a full holodeck, you could still program it with arbitrary visuals to inspect. There was still a limited number, but at this late hour, securing a booth with one wouldn’t be a problem. Thanya loaded the data from her PADD and began examining the sensor logs while the projector displayed _Vicksburg_ and her surroundings at the time. The surroundings were haphazardly floating shards of ice, with ability to discern individual objects falling off rapidly with distance.

“So where’s this anomaly?” Hue asked.

“That’s just it—right now, I don’t see it; too much noise. The most important thing is when exactly it happened.”

“How so?”

“When I saw it, we were already being attacked. The question is, did it _precede_ the bombardment? Maybe even caused it?”

“You mean a signal?”

“Can we find records of other ships stopping at Diamond Depot? If we weren’t the first—”

“Sure. Of course, Diamond could have erased or faked them.”

They whittled away several hours before Thanya tripped something. “Gotcha!”

“You found it?”

She nodded. “The initial burst is just over a second long, but see here and here,” she pointed on the signal graph. “Things got echoed in the icefield—probably off these large fragments.” She put her finger through two ring pieces in the holoprojection above the table, slightly to port of _Vicksburg_. “And look at the timing. It wasn’t a signal to the mines. The attack came first.” She breathed a deep sigh of relief.

Hue inspected the recording, then began tapping keys on the PADD. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to isolate the 'burst’ as you call it. It wasn’t a signal to the mines, you say. So what was it?”

She nodded. “Here,” she said. “I am more familiar with the _Vicksburg_ background noise.” This effort proved relatively easy, though not perfect. “Here we go. Something familiar?”

Hue blinked several times and his face lost all cheer. “As matter of fact, yes. It’s an Imperial code.”

“What?”

“A relatively rare one, tailored for short, barely detectible burst transmissions. Your _Vicksburg_‘s instruments are a lot more sensitive than most private or even Alliance ships. But yes, it’s an Imperial transmission.”

“From whom?”

“I’d guess the minefield automation system. They began the attack and let the Empire know in case they wanted to sift through the debris later. Or a covert operative on Diamond. We had one. They might have too.”

“Can you find what it says?”

“Not from one transmission. And it’s not that it’s _hard_. It’s designed to be _impossible_ to retrieve the content when you only have one signal. Depending on the key, the encrypted signal can mean _anything_.”

“Mystery solved, then?”

He shook his head. “Not until we find out what it was about. It won’t happen tonight, though.”

“Alright. Thanks for sticking with me on this.”

“Your worries are mine, Thanya. It was even fun, though not how I envisioned my evening.”

She grinned. “Yeah… let’s catch up on that.”

* * *

Ahsoka and Ruby Blake, packed for a wet outdoor track, stood in the _Vicksburg_’s transporter room. “Now remember, check in every hour,” sor Valetta instructed. “If you’re even a minute late, I’m beaming you out.”

“Captain—”

“The Empire down there already knows we’re here. I’m sure they’ve called the fleet, who are on their way. We want to be out of here before the trap is sprung. Get down there, find these scouts, and we’ll take you away.” She half-glared at Ahsoka. “Do you need my first officer?”

“We _need_ very little,” she admitted. “I’ve gone in too many dangerous situations alone to do it again when I don’t have to. If it was your mission, who’d be your first choice for a partner?”

Cindy smiled. “Ruby.”

“Hey, it’s my first chance to use what I learned about the Force in a real setting.”

“Everything is a real setting,” Ahsoka lectured. “But I understand. I couldn’t wait to leave the Temple…” She cut off her reminiscence. “We’ll see you in a little while, Captain.”

“Good luck.”

The two Jedi stepped onto the transporter pads. “Energize,” Ruby ordered, and the operator tapped a few controls. The figures shimmered and were gone.

Sor Valetta breathed out carefully and left the transporter room. It wasn’t her duty shift; showing up on the bridge without an emergency was bad form—like she didn’t trust her night crew. She generally could exercise firm control over her body; the one exception was that she never could will herself to sleep. If she wasn’t inclined for it, like now, she’d stay awake, stressed out and running nightmare scenarios through her head, until she exhausted herself. That wouldn’t be good for anyone, least of all the crew of the _Vicksburg_.

Instead of heading to her quarters, she stopped at the ship’s holodeck. Physical exhaustion as a sleep agent was much more preferable to the mental variety.

* * *

The PADD produced a loud musical number, echoing across Thanya Ferraro’s quarters. She blinked her yes open and collided with Hue as she tried to get out of bed. “Sorry.”

“_That’s_ your alarm?” he grunted.

“What, you don’t like it? I need to introduce you to the Federation’s musical heritage.”

“It’s…”

“Never mind.” She looked about. “It’s not time for the alarm yet.”

“Shipwide emergency?”

“Trust me, _that_ would be anything but musical. No,” she said as she picked up the device and shut off the sound. “It’s something of mine. Or rather,” she corrected herself, “something of ours. Another signal like the one from the minefield.”

That prompted Hue to rise and look over her shoulder. “You set an alert? I don’t remember.”

“It’s something I did automatically. My 'phenomena of concern’ arrangement in the sensor monitoring computer. Just added—well, I suppose it’s not a surprise. We _are_ in orbit of a whole planet of Imperials.”

Hue frowned. “Can you transfer it to my datapad?”

“Sure,” she said. “Sensor logs are generally public on Starfleet ships.”

He picked up his own device and studied the contents. Thanya tweaked a couple of settings—yes, this was something she was interested in, but not to the extent of being woken over it in the middle of the night—and almost made it back to bed when Hue murmured in apprehension. “No…” he said and was quiet for a few seconds.

“What’s wrong?”

He met her eyes. “The signal of the burst transmission is digital,” he explained. “But the world is always analog—we generate modulations of a carrier wave using physical hardware.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“The material is never perfect—the manufacturer specifies tolerances, but below those, each transmitter has unique deformations, which affect the signal in a unique manner. It’s not too well-known, but sometimes our forensics team at Hays Major Police used it. If you have a good enough record of the received transmission—with all the noise in the analog signal—the pattern of that noise can be used to prove that two transmissions had been sent by the same physical device—or not. Like a fingerprint.”

“Alright…”

“The _Vicksburg_‘s recordings are good enough. The signal from the ring and this one match.”

“You’re saying,” Thanya said slowly, “that these two Imperial bursts were made by the same device?”

“Yes.”

“And if I understand the nature of this comm system,” she continued, “this is a local signal. It needs to be transformed to be sent across the galaxy—something usually done via a holonet node.”

“That’s right.”

“Except that one was made at the Diamond Depot, and another many light-years away, here at Peral.”

“Exactly.”

They said it simultaneously. “The transmitter is aboard _Vicksburg_.”

“Shit. You _know_ what this means.”

Thanya picked up her combadge on the nightstand and tapped it. “Ferraro to security.”

“Kuznetsov here,” a voice said.

“Uhm, where’s Commander Raya?”

“Asleep, I suppose,” Kuznetsov replied. “You called security, Ensign. It’s my shift.”

“It’s Lieutenant,” she said tensely. “We have evidence of an Imperial spy aboard.”

“This is not a joking matter,” Kuznetsov said.

“I’m not joking, sir. Considering the nature, do you think it’s a good idea to speak of this over the comm?”

Kuznetsov relented. “Very well. Bring your evidence to the security office.”

“On our way,” she said and closed the connection. “Let’s go.”

“This is not going to end well,” Hue said.

“We have to.”

“We don’t have to like it,” he grumbled.

Despite what he said, Kuznetsov clearly took the matter seriously. By the time they arrived in the ship’s security office, he was there with Lieutenant Commander Raya, disheveled, drinking coffee, and with a phaser clipped on her belt. “Lay it out, Lieutenant,” she said in lieu of greeting.

They did—the anomaly investigation the night before, the alert now, and how Hue determined that the two transmissions they recorded have been produced by the same hardware, which had to be aboard _Vicksburg_.

“What does the transmission say?” Raya asked.

Ferraro got angry. “Haven’t you heard? It’s not possible—”

“I’ve heard everything. You,” she pointed to Hue, “explained that a _single_ signal cannot be decrypted. But we now have two.”

Hue slapped his forehead. “Should work,” he said. “Why didn’t I think of this.”

“You would have,” Thanya assured him. “Eventually.”

“Thanks… but bigger thanks to Commander Raya,” he said. “I’ve been away from detective work too long.”

“You were a detective?” Kuznetsov asked.

“No time for stories,” Raya cut. “Well?”

“_Jedi gone. EH_.”

“What?”

“That’s the second transmission. Jedi gone, signed: EH,” Hue said.

“Jedi? You mean Ahsoka Tano?”

“It’s a singular plural,” Hue said. “Doesn’t matter in our case. Both she and Commander Blake are down on the planet.”

“EH,” Kuznetsov said. “I don’t think we actually have anyone with those initials aboard.”

“And _I_ don’t think anyone’d be stupid enough to put their initials in the message. Probably just a code.”

“So whatever this person is planning, he or she was afraid the Jedi could stop it.”

Hue snorted. “That’s covers most of what the Empire does.”

“What does the first—”

The room was pierced by a screech of the security alarm. Kuznetsov turned to the console. “Explosion on deck four!”

“Brig,” Raya declared. “They’re trying to break Torel out!”


	9. Vicksburg 8

Lieutenant Keroi wasn’t enjoying the glimpses into Voss Torel’s mind.

For one thing, he was getting far less than what Captain sor Valetta had hoped when she asked him to try this. He’d known already that Torel was extremely mentally disciplined, and nothing his telepathy provided contradicted that. He was certainly not getting actionable intelligence. Torel was determined, believed in the Empire, and despite the captain’s efforts, retained his sense of time and the pathological brand of optimism he’d cultivated during his first stay in order to get the _Vicksburg_ crew on his side.

All the thoughts he _did_ get from the prisoner were disturbing, in one manner or another. Torel had nothing but contempt for the Federation, for the Alliance, for all enemies of the Empire. He also found Captain sor Valetta sexually attractive, and the mixture of contempt and lust was almost too much to bear. Keroi wondered how he should phrase his report on this matter to the captain.

He glanced at his watch, sighed, focused himself and prepared to once again enter the former Imperial agent’s mind. Concentrating on that, the spike of triumph he felt in the prisoner obscured the noise of the blast in his ears. He realized something was wrong when a ring of smoke emerged from the brig’s door, which fell a second later, permitting Voss Torel to step out. In the next instant, Keroi dropped from a blow to the solar plexus. By the time he understood where he was again, Torel’s foot was pressing down on his chest, hard enough to make breathing slow and painful.

“I did not give you permission to read my mind, Lieutenant,” Torel pronounced. He looked at his right hand—one Keroi knew to be artificial despite its appearance—curled his fingers in a peculiar manner, and extended it. Suddenly, there was a loud hiss and a meter-long shaft of orange-white light emerged from Torel’s palm. Jedi Tano had talked a little about lightsabers, but hadn’t shown one in action.

Torel swung the blade down and across Lieutenant Keroi’s neck. He walked away calmly as the head rolled.

* * *

Lieutenant Commander Raya watched the murder of _Vicksburg_‘s chief pilot in five seconds on the security cameras. “Murdering bastard! Kuznetsov, I’m leading the squad. Alert the captain and keep monitoring us!” Rage fueled her; she’d be shocked if the time it took for a security team to assemble for combat up didn’t break all Starfleet records.

Unfortunately, deck four housed not just the brig, but also one of the entrances to the shuttlecraft bay. Torel was inside already, and when her people beamed in, he managed to deflect back every phaser beam fired at him with the integrated lightsaber. _How did we miss this?_ went through her mind.

A deep rumble shook the ship, making a couple of the security stumble for a moment and cease firing. Torel instantly took advantage, leaping nearly ten meters high, over the startled people, and jumping on top of a shuttle, falling through the hatch seconds later. The shuttle fired torpedoes, blasting open a hole in the _Vicksburg_’s hull. Her squad was caught by the air rushing out. Raya managed a last shot from her phaser rifle, hitting the shuttle but doing no damage, and then had to trigger an emergency beamout.

The squad panted on the security office floor, some coughing blood from the seconds of vacuum exposure, others clutching limbs where phaser beams bouncing off Torel’s lightsaber had hit. “Get everyone to sickbay,” she ordered Kuznetsov. She then tapped her combadge, dreading what she’d have to say. “I’m sorry, Captain.”

* * *

“Never mind,” sor Valetta snarled. “Take care. Relon, report.”

“The second explosion produced a surge in power conduit G, forcing it to shut down. We have no phasers at this time.”

“Of course we don’t,” she said. “Verlaine, your fighters are faster than our shuttle. Launch immediately. Shoot him down.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Turn the ship, Ensign Boleyn,” she commanded. “We are _also_ faster than the shuttle.”

“Helix squadron in pursuit,” Verlaine reported. “We’ll get him.”

“Permission to take sensor station, Captain?” Lieutenant Ferraro entered the bridge.

“Actually, I want you to get the ship’s internal scans. See the damage Torel did and how best to reroute power to get our phasers back.”

“On it, Captain.”

“Star Destroyer!”

“TIE fighters… four, no, five squadrons!”

“They’ll get slaughtered!” Ferraro gasped.

“No. Boleyn, give me helm control.”

A panel on the armrest of the captain’s chair popped open and a joystick slid up. Sor Valetta encased it in a tight grip. “Arm torpedoes. Transporter room, we’ll drop shields for one second. I want Helix squadron out.”

And with that she pushed the stick forward to the maximum.

“What was that?”

“Warp 0.8,” sor Valetta informed Relon.

“That’s straining the hull too much!”

“It’ll last long enough. Full torpedo spread on that Star Destroyer’s bridge—then the one second shield drop.”

“Roger, ma'am.”

“Verlaine to _Vicksburg_. I’m breaking off. Helix Squadron, jump away.”

“No, we’ll beam you—”

“Handle Four, Six, and Nine. They lost their hyperdrives.”

“Hue is Four,” Ferraro whispered.

“Coming up. Target acquired.”

“Fire.”

The mile-long ship’s bridge was first obscured by the flash, then erupted in flames. For a little bit, turbolaser fire looked more haphazard.“

"Transporter!”

“Got them.”

“Shields up!”

“We’re hit! Shields at eighty percent!”

Sor Valetta twisted the joystick and had the _Vicksburg_ loop around the big ship, close enough to avoid being targeted by its full power.

“Increase power to rear shields,” she ordered and turned to speed away. TIE fighters had destroyed the abandoned Helix Squadron craft, and other survivors jumped away. There was only one X-Wing still in the system. “May the Force be with you, Captain,” Verlaine said before her ship streaked away.“

"It better be with us,” sor Valetta grunted as she piloted the _Vicksburg_ away from the Imperial behemoth. The TIE fighters, having no more Helix opponents to dogfight, made to pursue her.

“Shields at seventy percent!” Constant small jolts from the TIEs’ laser cannons made it hard for anyone to maintain fine control. The only one who didn’t seem to notice was the captain, steadily flying the _Vicksburg_, evading the occasional bolt from the Star Destroyer further back, and once, when a TIE Interceptor approached very close, making a tiny deceleration and causing it to shatter on their shields.

“Captain, why aren’t we leaving?”

“We still have people on the planet, remember?”

“We can’t go—the defenses—”

“We’re not leaving them behind. Prepare for atmospheric flight.”

“Captain.”

“This better be good news, Relon.”

“I can give you starboard phaser banks.”

“Fire at will on the TIEs.”

Beams lashed out, causing the squadrons to scatter. The instability from enemy fire dropped slightly, but very quickly, _Vicksburg_ was shaking worse than ever as it started battling atmospheric currents. “Ferraro, track down Ahsoka and Commander Blake.”

“Heading 319, approximately sixteen hundred kilometers.”

Sor Valetta changed course without acknowledgement. “Transporter room, stand by to beam our people out. Take anyone within a hundred meters. Raya, have a security platoon there by in case we bring in hostiles.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Several unusually severe shocks thundered through the _Vicksburg_. “What was that?”

“Air defense missiles. Shields at fifty percent. They’re indiscriminate. One of those missiles hit their own TIE.”

“Defenses ahead?”

“Not directly, but in range.”

“How many torpedoes do we have left?”

“Seven.”

“Target them with phasers. Do we have the port banks?”

“Not yet.”

“I’m changing course to put the closes defense complex to starboard.”

“Uh-oh.”

“What is it?”

“Two more Star Destroyers arrived in system.”

“TIE fighters broke off pursuit.”

“I bet the fleet captain and the ground command are having a spat over friendly fire right now.”

“Captain, I’ll need at least three seconds without shields to beam everyone up.”

“Right. We’re nearing the defense complex. Prepare for impacts. We’ll be flying close. Phasers, target the missile origin points as soon as the launch is registered.”

The _Vicksburg_ shook so violently that several supposedly fixed pieces of equipment weretorn off the bulkheads and flew around the bridge, hitting people. Two had to be hauled off to sickbay. “Twenty five percent shields!”

“Drop them,” sor Valetta ordered. “While they reload. Transporter!”

“Commander Blake is aboard. So is Jedi Tano and… fifteen others. Don’t look like imperials—”

“Keep them under guard for now. Ruby, I need you on the bridge.”

Sor Valetta pulled back on the joystick, pitching the _Vicksburg_ away from the planet. “They’re trying to catch us in the crossfire.”

“Load up those seven torpedoes.”

“It’s not enough.”

“Not enough to harm. Enough to blind. Light up half the sky, and we safely clear the gravity well. As soon as we do, get us out of here, Boleyn.”

Ruby Blake arrived on the bridge. “Here,” she said, and put in the torpedo targeting solution. “This gives us the best cover.”

“Torpedoes ready.”

“Fire!”

The weapons detonated simultaneously, all between the Star Destroyers and _Vicksburg_. Sor Valetta ordered side shields strengthened and plunged through. Even accidental hits were numerous enough to shorten out the shields completely. “More TIE fighters!”

“Gravity well clear!”

“Boleyn, now!”

* * *

Disasters don’t usually happen through one big mistake. More often, they happen through many small mistakes compounding on each other, typically in ways impossible to foresee.

Tired, worried, angry Captain Cindy sor Valetta had taken it upon herself to fly the _Vicksburg_. That in itself was probably necessary—sor Valetta was an excellent pilot, and knew her ship better than anyone else. But there a brain has limited throughput, and having to fly and command, while under emotional duress, something had to give.

This would never have happened with Lieutenant Keroi at the helm. Sor Valetta knew Keroi was better, and would never take over in the first place. Keroi had acquired experience with the way the _Vicksburg_‘s hyperdrive had been integrated—tacked on, jury-rigged—into her systems, and was confident in its operations. Finally, Keroi had been a Betazoid, and thus had a double channel of communication with his captain. If the words were ambiguous, the thoughts could clarify what was needed.

None of that applied to Ensign Kari Boleyn, the night shift pilot. So when the captain ordered action, intending to jump to hyperspace, Boleyn went with the reflex ingrained by Starfleet training and channeled power into the warp nacelles, intending to use the propulsion the _Vicksburg_ had been created with.

If that was all she did, there would probably be little effect. They would go to warp, realize their mistake, drop back into normal space—and would likely be able to jump away for good before the Imperial Star Destroyers caught up. But Boleyn had realized her mistake as soon as she made it, and activated the hyperdrive as well.

Then the fact that the Starfleet vessel hadn’t been designed with the hyperdrive in mind came into play. Hyperdrive speeds were so much faster than what they were used to that control requirements made it necessary to have the new system respond very quickly. Chief Engineer Relon did the logical thing, and optimized those control paths. The difference was on order of microseconds, but it was there. Thus, even though Ensign Boleyn actived the warp drive first and the hyperdrive second, the shorter control path on the latter meant the order in which the two engines fired was reversed.

The _Vicksburg_ was already in hyperspace when its native propulsion activated. Even if they thought about what might happen in such an event, they couldn’t test it—long before they even _had_ a hyperdrive to install, it was clear that she didn’t have a power supply sufficient for both to operate at once. The operating manual Relon put together made it quite clear. But no one reads the manual in the heat of battle.

The stars weren’t even quite replaced by the blue swirls before _Vicksburg_ underwent an unexpected burst of acceleration. The hull audibly groaned under increased stress, making everyone on the bridge, including Captain sor Valetta, turn their heads in confusion. Two and a half seconds later, another sound reverberated through as the warp core gave out from powering the two engines simultaneously. Then everyone was plunged into darkness and lost control as the artificial gravity vanished.

_Vicksburg_ was a dead ship with a live crew. Unlike the other combinations of these states, this one couldn’t last long.

* * *

Ruby Blake steadied Hue Tico after he ended up in an uncontrollable rotation in the zero-g. It was amazing how many people who spent their lives in space had never experienced this aspect of its nature. The floating vomit in the _Vicksburg_’s corridors testified to this. She knew some unusual history—and this really struck her as the return of the eighteenth century phenomenon of most sailors not knowing how to swim.

Hue Tico and Thanya Ferraro apparently had two of the most sturdiest stomachs aboard. Certainly better than any of the engineering crew, who’d normally be doing this sort of work. Relon, being a Vulcan, probably could have handled it, but he’d been badly hurt in one of the shakeups. How Dr. Shar would treat him under these conditions…

The _Vicksburg_ originally had four shuttlecraft. One was lost to the Dominion before Ruby came aboard, one had just been stolen by Torel, and the other two were torn off their moorings during the battle. One apparently, after bumping around, found the hole in the hull that Torel blasted, and was lost. The last one was still here. Their last hope.

The three of them put on vac-suits, and spent a better part of an hour sealing off a portion of deck four so that they could force open the entrance to the hangar without endangering the rest of the ship. After that, they had to navigate around all the equipment floating about, and suffer a bout of fear when they had trouble finding either shuttle.

While normally, it would be easy to use her PADD to operate the shuttle remotely, this was done through the _Vicksburg_’s internal comm network. This was a built-in security feature: you couldn’t take control of a shuttle through a lost or stolen PADD. One would be able to use a PADD to communicate with the shuttle, but first, they had to get it online—and that could only be done within.

Ferraro was in the process of doing that, and she and Tico had to wait. She tried to remember if the relevant course was typically taken junior or senior year at the Academy. Ferraro was graduated early. She had the manual on her PADD, of course… manuals. And while Thanya Ferraro proved to be able to handle weightlessness, she wasn’t good at maneuvering around in a vacuum suit. Twice she’d made a miscalculated firing of the suit’s engine that made lose control. Once this loss nearly caused her to float out through the hull breach. To make sure this didn’t happen to the shuttle, they had to secure it again—a job requiring lots of maneuvering. Leaving Ferraro inside to handle the startup was the logical choice.

“There’s something odd about this, Commander,” Tico whispered.

“There’s something _not_ odd about any of this?” she ribbed.

“Look out there.”

“Where?”

“The hull breach,” he explained. “Look.”

“Black space,” she commented. “What’s odd? It would be odd if this wasn’t the case—a random location in the galaxy is likely to be far outside any planetary system.”

“Yeah—but you’d expect to see some stars. It’s just black out there.”

“Maybe we’re in a relatively dense gas cloud that obscures faraway stars and there aren’t any nearby ones.”

“That’s not likely either. Gas clouds are where stars form.”

“I got it!” their conversation was interrupted. In the next moment, the bay was flooded in bright light from the shuttle’s headlamps.

“Fantastic!” Blake declared. “Now, open up panel 14A on the starboard side. It’s one meter behind the mid-section, Lieutenant Tico. You can spool out the power cable from it.” She considered. “Lieutenant Ferraro, you need to move about three meters aft and five meters to starboard, or there won’t be enough of that cable.”

“Right. Never had to fly this precisely,” she mused.

Ruby moved to the bay’s corner and found what she was looking for. Unfortunately, the panel’s manual release had been damaged by the battle, leaving her unable to grip anything to slide the panel over. The automatic controls, were, of course, nonfunctional. Under gravity, the panel could probably be dislodged by a good kick—but here, such a kick would more likely send her hurling in a spin across the shuttle bay. She drew her phaser, switched to a cutting beam setting, and removed most of the panel in a few seconds.

She was just about done when Hue Tico dragged the tip of the shuttle’s cable to her. Now, it could be plugged into the ship’s power supply. Usually, the energy went the other way, but the interface was flexible. She switched the comm channels in her suit.

“Blake to Captain sor Valetta.”

“Go ahead, Commander. Please tell me you have good news. Life support failure is beginning to tell. We’re at seventeen percent oxygen already.”

“We’re going to give you power. I’m not sure how much the shuttle can produce…”

“We can stagger. Restore the atmosphere, then take life support offline again for a few hours later if we need it.”

“Right. Stand by. Emergency power is sufficient for life support and gravity.”

“Alright. At least our combadges function, so I can warn people they might fall suddenly.” She laughed. “If we were on one of those Star Destroyers, they wouldn’t have the range.”

“Perhaps something to consider in future combadge designs,” Blake said. She waited for the captain’s warning announcement, then connected the cable to the outlet and prepared to flip the switch. “Power in three… two… one…”

Loud crashes all over the bay—all over the ship—were testimony to this first success.“ With the comm channel to the bridge still open, loud cheers emerged though her helmet.

It took almost a day of work, taking life support down twice to route power for another purpose, before the warp core was back online. Bone-tired, Blake didn’t bother going to her quarters—she lay down in her bridge chair and fell asleep on the spot. She was surprised to find herself shaken awake by the captain.

"What’s happening?”

“Nothing good.”

Sor Valetta nodded at the comm station and rose to stand in front of the main viewscreen. It lit up with an image of space that had never been seen by human eyes before.

“Crew and guests of the USS _Vicksburg_, this is your Captain. We have found out exactly what happened and where we are right now.

"This,” she gestured at the screen, “is the view outside _Vicksburg_ right now. As you see, we’re no longer in any galaxy, but sitting in intergalactic space. We’re some two hundred fifty thousand lightyears from Coruscant.

"It seems apparent that our warp drives can warp hyperspace as well as normal space, which is how we managed to travel this far in the few seconds before our warp core was overloaded. The good news is that now that we know this is doable, we can use it to travel even faster than hyperdrive speeds allow. We can go home, and it will not take decades or centuries of travel.

"The bad news is that we cannot do any of that right now. Our hyperdrive is wrecked. At warp speeds, just getting back to this galaxy will take over a hundred years.

"We do not have supplies for such a trip, and there are no planets in between.

"We will try everything we can, but decisions have to be made for the possibility that this is beyond us. We have about four months worth of food onboard. I will grant another month with reduced rations and supplements.

"After that, none will be able to live and still consider themselves part of civilization. Nor will there be any point; the last survivor will still die before reaching any planet or outpost. I will not allow our dignity to be marred like that, nor to provide such an introduction to us for anyone who find the _Vicksburg_ adrift.”

She tapped a key on her padd, and both the main screen and all the crew’s PADDS lit up with a series of numbers. 150:00:00:00. “Five months,” she said. “One hundred fifty days.” She tapped a key, and the numbers began to change. 149:23:59:59. 149:23:59:58. 149:23:59:57.

“If we’re not on our way to any other people when this timer hits zero,” she declared, “I will order the self-destruct of the USS _Vicksburg_.”


	10. Vicksburg 9

“Last meeting, huh,” Lieutenant Commander Raya tried to joke. “I’ll miss these.”

Since they were stranded beyond the known galaxy, Captain sor Valetta had her senior staff in for an all-hands meeting every ten days, as marked by the countdown clock that was omnipresent aboard _Vicksburg_. Everyone in the ready room involuntarily looked at the corner of the viewscreen. 9:18:43:34. The ten day mark had been passed in the night.

“No miracle work?” Ruby Blake suggested to Relon. The Vulcan merely lifted an eyebrow.

“Miracles are illogical, Commander.”

“Anyone got news—good or bad?” the captain brought them back to the fold.

“Not really,” Dr. Shar said. “I’ve got another petition for me to declare you medically unfit for command.”

“I thought they’d given up on that,” sor Valetta muttered. “How many signed? Anywere close to a majority?”

“Does it matter? This ship is not a democracy,” Blake said.

“No, but it could be a concern.”

“Likely just a way to vent off,” Dr. Shar opined. “Maybe there would be more if anyone really thought I’d grant it, or that Commander Blake would do anything different.”

“And a mutiny won’t work in this case. If you’re not removed officially, your codes will still work, and you can authorize the self-destruct from anywhere.”

“Something wrong, Commander?”

“Dr. Shar is right. You made the right decision, and I will follow through if you can’t. But something like this would not occur to me in the first place. I would probably wait too long for something to happen. Eventually it would. Something bad, chances are.”

“Bad things happened, don’t you dare doubt it.” As far as they knew, no one had talked about what exactly happened on the bridge that day in orbit of Peral. But three days after, Ensign Kari Boleyn had sat down in the main mess hall, drank a glass of water, and then, instead of eating lunch, pulled out a phaser, put it in her mouth, and thumbed the activator, sending a beam through her brain. With modern medical science, suicide could be hard to pull off. Boleyn chose one of the surefire methods.

There were a dozen other similar incidents in the first weeks of their isolation, as well as five fatal accidents from attempts to repair the hyperdrive. When that happened, Relon closed down engineering to everyone but himself for a period, and held a private gathering of the entire engineering crew. Nobody outside Engineering, not even the captain, was allowed in, and nothing was recorded. But the accidents stopped; there had been many variations on ‘I had no idea Vulcans could be scary’ muttered about in the hallways.

‘Clever’ suggestions that the time on the clock should be increased to account for the dead people no longer needing to eat had to be shut down in force. After all, people buying more life at the expense of others was what they were trying to prevent. Sor Valetta was suprised and more than a little proud that her crew held together for so long. Before the end, she would be sure to tell them so.

They were interrupted by a transmission. “Bridge to Captain sor Valetta,” the duty officer said. “There is a… delegation here to see you.”

“How many?” sor Valetta inquired.

“Three.”

“And it can’t wait?”

A pause. “They say it’s urgent.”

“I’m having a senior staff meeting,” she said. “If it’s something just for me—”

“No, captain—in fact, I think they’d be glad.”

“_Really_? Now that’s curious enough. Send them in,” she said. “Let’s see what this is about.” She blew up the timer on the main screen from the corner to full size. “A nice reminder for anyone with the inclination to waste time.”

The trio that came in wasn’t who she expected. Raya’s nighshift deputy, Pavel Kuznetsov, her main sensor operator, Thanya Ferraro, and one of the Helix squadron pilots, Hue Tico. Raya raised her eyebrows. With no fighters aboard, Tico put in the training to fly the _Vicksburg_ after Boleyn’s death, but the bridge shifts of the past months, composed of staring at nothing on the screen, nothing on the sensors, and flying nowhere, weren’t too conductive to getting to know the crew.

“Lieutenants,” sor Valetta addressed them. “What can I do for you?”

Ferraro fidgeted. Kuznetsov was senior in rank among them, but she was taking the lead. “I suppose there are three things,” she started.

“I’m listening.”

She took a deep breath. “We know Torel failed in his mission. We know you kept it secret. We know why.”

* * *

“I don’t understand,” General Rieekan said.

“Neither do I,” Ruby Blake seconded.

“What mission?” Raya asked.

Dr. Shar remained silent, but the surprised look on his face mathched the other three senior officers. The remaining ones… Relon was a Vulcan and sor Valetta…

“Alright,” the captain finally said. “You _all_ know Torel has been interested in acquiring transporter technology for the Empire ever since he learned of its existence. I made it hard for him.”

“What do you mean?” said Commander Raya.

“He stole an escape pod, and probably learned too late that ours don’t have transporters. He said he was fired for that failure.”

“But he wasn’t,” Tico retorted. “Shira Kord was a cover story.”

“Yes. He used it to get back onboard, let the Empire know when he was ready, as you found out—”

“When the two of us were off the ship,” Ahsoka said.

“And he stole a shuttle. Our shuttles _do_ have transporter units. At least, they normally do.”

“But not our remaining one, or the one Torel stole,” Kuznetsov said.

“No, they don’t. I ordered Chief Engineer Relon to remove them shortly after we got the hyperdrive installed.”

“Why?” Dr. Shar asked.

“To prevent the very thing Torel tried. Not _that_ specific,” sor Valetta anticipated. “But since it’s far more likely that a shuttle gets lost, stolen, or abandoned than the starship, I minimized the risk.”

“Except that Torel knows by now, and is _still_ trying to get the transporter.”

“He doesn’t know where we are.”

Ferraro and Tico exchanged a look. “You made sure no one sends out any comms, because the Empire is more likely to respond than the Alliance, or to detect a very weak signal like ours would be.”

“All true.”

“Except to get the transporter, which they _don’t_ have yet, they’ll need the _Vicksburg_ intact.”

“If anyone found out that contacting the Empire wasn’t the death sentence for us—”

“Stop,” sor Valetta raised her hand. “You came to me, instead of broadcasting this shipwide. Why?”

“Because—” Kuznetsov stammered, “—because we agree with you. We can’t give the transporter to the Empire. Not even for our lives.”

“But that sentiment may not be universal. And if we found this out, so might someone else.”

“Thought it was prudent to warn you, ma'am,” Tico said.

“Thank you,” sor Valetta answered. “I doubt there’s much I can do.” She sighed. “We have no more Betazoids, and even if we did, none of them would agree to mind-read the entire crew. Plus… the underlying reasoning is questionable. They _don’t_ need us alive once they get their hands on the transporter itself. Certainly not all of us.”

Ferarro gulped. “I haven’t thought like that.”

“I have,” Tico said.

“But this brings us to the next point,” Ferraro said. “We may get out of this yet.”

That brought stares from everyone. Even Relon’s face produced a change. “How?”

“We’ve got a transmission,” Tico said.

“Receiving communications isn’t a problem.”

“This was specifically to us,” he said.

“How do you know? And how do you know it’s not an Imperial trap?”

“It’s encrypted with a Helix squadron code. Specifically, it came from Samat.”

“The bird with the big sword?” Ruby asked.

Tico laughed. “That’s one way of putting it. Anyway,” he pulled out the datapad. “Here’s the message. Very tightly compressed, and it’s just text. No holograms.”

He had it projected onto the room’s screen. While speaking through universal translators was fine, written Basic had to be learned the old-fashioned way, and not all the Starfleet officers had time to spare. Tico read it out loud.

“Torel still after _Vicksburg_. Believes he knows the location, and has ackquired an Interdictor cruiser for pursuit. Launch planned two days hence. We have tracker aboard, will pursue. You must hold out for two hours. May the Force be with you.”

“Not very detailed.”

“I wouldn’t be either. They don’t want to be discovered. If we get out, they’ll tell us everything. If we don’t—we can’t reveal what we don’t know. When was this made?”

“Yesterday.”

“How fast would an Interdictor get here?”

“A day, maybe a little more.”

“We don’t have much time, then. This is our one chance.”

“An Interdictor has almost as much firepower as a Star Destroyer. Fewer fighters, but some,” Rieekan said. “More than we do, and there’s no tricks of terrain to use.”

Sor Valetta produced a feral grin. “We’ll see about that,” she said.

“You sure your grandfather was Denobulan and not Klingon, Captain?”

“I won’t have anyone impinge on the marital fidelity of my grandmother here,” she deflected with amusement. “I’ll assume the Interdictors do the same thing to warp travel as they do for hyperspace. We don’t have much use for that, anyway.” She looked at the three young officers. “Thank you.”

As the department heads prepared to leave, Cindy held them up. “Hold on,” she said, and looked over the visitors. “You said there were three things you wanted to bring to me. What else is up?”

“Now that that clock isn’t a certainty,” Ferraro began, “it no longer feels like a stupid idea. Even if we die in the upcoming battle, it’ll be worth it.” She smiled, and placed her hand, clasped in Lieutenant Tico’s, on the table. “Captain,” she said, “we want to get married.”

* * *

“Everything set, captain. Just the wait now.”

“The hardest part. Thank you, Lieutenant Ferraro,” sor Valetta said. “This isn’t my idea of a good honeymoon, you know.”

Thanya grinned at her husband at the conn station. “We’ll manage. Though it’s Lieutenant Tico now.”

“Not when both of you are on this bridge,” she declared. “I don’t want any confusion. Lieutenant Tico’s the helmsman.”

“That wouldn’t be a problem if our ranks differed.”

“Gunning for a promotion? You’re rising very fast as is. And do you really want to be legally superior to your spouse?”

“Oh, so that’s why you haven’t married General Rieekan.”

Sor Valetta froze. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she pronounced and turned to the comm station. “Patch me through to the assault teams. Sor Valetta here. Report.”

“Alpha team, standing by,” General Rieekan’s voice echoed. Ferraro watched the captain carefully. _No idea what I’m talking about my ass._ The captain acted so calm that it was obvious she _was_ acting.

“Bravo team, standing by,” Commander Blake reported.

“Charlie team, standing by,” announced the strangely eager voice of Lieutenant Commander Raya.

“Delta team, standing by,” Ahsoka Tano echoed before appending, “If we meet Voss Torel, I’m killing him.”

“Echo team, standing by,” Lieutenant Kuznetsov answered before anyone produced a reply to the Jedi’s announcement.

“Defense team, standing by,” Ensign Crand finished the lineup. “That bay will be impassable.”

“Shuttle remote pilot feeds right into the holodeck,” Ensign Caruthers said.

“Take her out,” the Captain ordered. “Ferraro, you got automatic alert setup?”

“Everyone will know as soon as that Imp jumps in.”

“Good. Open channel to the entire ship.”

She waited for the comm officer to acknowledge and then stood. “Twenty-four hours ago, you were prepared to sacrifice your lives for civilization. That required more bravery than any battle. You proved yourselves time and again to be the finest crew in the two galaxies. I’m honored to be your captain through this. Whatever happens, we’re at the end of our greatest trial. We have surprise, we have friends coming for us, and we will see it through. Thank you.”

Sor Valetta sat back into her chair, and watched the viewscreen, where the remotely piloted shuttlecraft—their last—was now visible in front of the galactic disk. “Time?” she asked.

Thanya looked at her station. There were now two timers running down. One was the same they had been looking at for months, now down to slightly over eight days. The other was their best estimate of when the enemy would arrive, based on their knowledge of Interdictor speeds and the timestamp on the message from the Alliance. She breathed out. The second timer hit zero and the console emitted a beep.

“ETA for the enemy.”

“Red alert.”

* * *

Alarms blared in the holodeck recreation of the shuttlecraft cabin, but even without them, Blair Caruthers was springing into action. The beautiful view of the galaxy she was admiring had suddenly been obscured by the white-gray wedge of an Imperial warship, jumping out of hyperspace. Her sensors informed her that the shuttle was in a heavy gravity well centered on the ship, much like the neighborhood of a planet. Warp controls lit up in red, indicating they were dangerous to use.

“Caruthers here. Captain?”

“Go.”

On Caruther’s command, the shuttle fired its impulse engines at full strength, accelerating towards the Interdictor. Green turbolaser bolts streaked to meet it, impacting the forward shields, bringing them down to twenty percent in two hits. Caruthers instinctively winced, despite not being in any danger. The actual shuttle flying in space didn’t even have life support.

“Arm warp core for self-destruct. Ten seconds. Authorization Caruthers Fifteen Eight Theta.”

“Ten seconds to detonation. Nine. Eight,” the gentle computer voice counted down.

The Interdictor loomed large. Another bolt wrecked the shields and torn up half the cockpit. Blair would be dead had she been aboard. She watched the gray metal fill the entire view and made out a couple of small details on the hull.

“Three. Two.”

Unfortunately, the next bolt destroyed the datalink, and instead of witnessing the end of the countdown, she wound up standing on the black-and-yellow holodeck grid. She felt the _Vicksburg_ starg moving even before her combadge chirped.

“Good work, Caruthers. Their shields are down.”

Caruthers whooped.

* * *

“Take her in, Tico,” sor Valetta ordered. “Target weapons emplacements as we approach.”

The _Vicksburg_ dipped down and made a twist as it approached. “Tractor beams standing by,” Ferraro announced.

“On my mark.”

Phaser and turbolaser beams criss-crossed space. “Shields at sixty percent!”

“Approaching the launch bay.”

“Rake it. Bombers are trouble.”

“Targeting the bay.”

Tico had manuevered to not just have _Vicksburg_ underneath the Interdictor’s lauch bay, but to turn over, with the two ships’ bellies facing each other.

“Tractor beams powered up. We’re pulling in.”

The ship shuddered and strained. “What’s that?”

“They’re countering our tractor beams with theirs.”

“Ferraro, do you have the emplacement positions?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Beam in the mines and detonate.”

“And… we’ve landed,” Tico announced. “Ships are in contact.”

“Defense team, into the bay! Stop any attempts to operate any fighter or bomber here. Assault teams, beam to your designated points and start breaking the ship apart from the inside. No prisoners. The only way we’ll last the two hours our friends need is to keep constant pressure on them.”

Thanya, frowning, turned to her captain. “What if they don’t get here?”

“Our people will get tired, while the enemy still has fresh reserves. They’ll move into the bay, cut the hull open from close range, and flood the _Vicksburg_ with stormtroopers.”

“And then what?” Tico asked.

“And then I will beam our antimatter reserves into their reactor room and drop the containment field.”


	11. Vicksburg 10

“Blake?”

“Another stormtrooper squad down, another sector exposed to vacuum. We’ve got three seriously wounded. Dr. Shar?”

“Beam them in,” the Andorian said in a flat monotone. “I suppose the sickbay was the one part of _Vicksburg_ you haven’t pushed beyond the limits in the past year, Captain.”

Sor Valetta switched channels. “Crand, report.”

“I don’t think there are anymore TIEs in the bay to _try_ to operate,” the junior security officer said. “But there are wrecks everywhere, good to hide behind. For both sides.”

“Snipers?”

“There’s less than three hundred meters wall to wall. Doesn’t deserve the name.”

“Alright. Let me know if the ship’s phasers can target anything useful.”

“Wish there was a phaser mirror, to deflect the beam. Then we coudl just transport it around and shoot anything around—”

“Crand?”

“T'Rava here. Crand’s dead. Bolt through the head.”

“Hold on.” End of call. Curse. Another channel switch. “Raya?”

“No! You can’t do this!”

“You lost your _arm_, Commander! How’re you going to fight with one arm?!”

“Raya, beam aboard _Vicksburg_! That’s an order!”

“Energize!”

“No—”

“Get on that table, Commander,” Dr. Shar’s voice broke in.

“I can’t—Captain, listen you can’t leave them. My team’s full of rookies, and we found our way into the most dangerous part of the ship. The Imps are bringing in small walkers. They’ll get slaughtered with a green officer in charge.”

“Understood.”

“But there isn’t anyone—”

“Sedate her, doctor.” When that comm ended, the captain looked ahead. “Liuetenant Ferraro.”

The operations officer’s confusion was felt even by her. She certainly wasn’t the sort of experienced infantry commander that Raya implied was needed. If she was the best among those remaining—

“You have the bridge,” sor Valetta simply said before strapping on a phaser and departing.

* * *

“Well, it’s handy, I’ll give that,” Ruby Blake commented as several more of the stormtroopers’ blaster bolts glanced off her lightsaber. She wasn’t skilled enough yet to send them back at their enemy; mostly, they just hit the corridor’s walls. But it provided protection for her people, who could shoot from behind her sword.

“That’s the last of this bunch,” someone from her team said, noting the Imperial corpses. He lifted a tricorder. “No lurkers.”

“And that,” she said, pointing forward, “is the outer hull. We can make another hole in the ship and move on.” She nodded at the others. “Get ready to beam out.” With that, she walked forward, lightsaber at the ready.

Something nearly fell on top of her and she sprang back. Another blade, an orange one, pierced the gloom. “I don’t think so,” Voss Torel snarled and launched himself at her.

* * *

They did not waste breath on words. Her team attempted to shoot, but with a wave of his hand, phasers were torn from their grasps. She blocked a strike and staggered from the sheer force, then fell back as Torel attempted to kick her in the belly. Nimbly, she climbed up onto the walkway, locked her blade, and hurled it, spinning, at the imperial. He let the weapon approach and then moved quickly to strike at the blade, changing its course towards the remaining Starfleet personnel. Realizing the danger, Ruby reached out and summoned the weapon back to her, but this gave Torel time to get on the same walkway. He tore away a length of handrail and approached, weapon in each hand.

Each parry she made generated a painful shock in her hands and another step backwards. He wielded the lightsaber with one hand, and she had to use both to even hold on to her weapon; meanwhile, he used the metal rod in the other hand to try to cut under her legs and trip her. At one moment, she managed to pin the secondary weapon down with her foot and make a side-kick at Torel’s chest, but his bulk let him retain the balance and then he leveraged the piece of railing, forcing her to shut down the lightsaber as she rolled on the floor, lest she impale herself. When she stopped, he was standing over her, swinging down—

And then he was kicked sideways by a figure flying across her field of view, two white blades moving in a blur. By the time she breathed out and rose to watch, the metal rod from his right hand was lying on the compartment floor in three pieces, and it was Torel who had been forced on the defensive—and, Ruby realized, was now at a disadvantage because a weapon that was embedded into one arm couldn’t be wielded with two.

Ahsoka Tano moved fluidly, stopping each lightsaber strike, stepping away from every kick and punch despite Torel’s longer reach, and finally got exactly where she wanted. Putting slightly more force into the lightsaber parry than usual, she made Torel extend his arm outward, leaving an opening through which she stepped through—and, anticipating the blocking fist, stepped out of the way left and forward before pivoting. For a fraction of a second, she was mere centimeters away from Torel, facing his back, and with one free hand. It took only a short turn of her wrist for the lightsaber in that hand to slice across his Torso and make the body drop in two halves.

“Are you alright?” Ahsoka called out.

“Yeah. You?”

“Well, I won,” she said. “Even without the Force, the combat training is still there.”

“It’s over.”

“No, it’s not. Take a look.”

Frowning, Ruby climbed down and joined her master next to Torel’s corpse. Ahsoka unceremoniously lifted the lower half and pointed inside.

Instead of organs and blood, there was metal and circuits.

“Torel’s a _droid_?”

* * *

“Ship jumping out of hyperspace!”

“About time,” Thanya Tico breathed in relief.

“They’ve launched bombers. Y-Wings.”

“We’re being hailed.”

“Onscreen.”

They were greeted by a familiar face. “USS _Vicksburg_, this is Alliance carrier _Memory of Alderaan_,” Evaan Verlaine introduced her ship. “Lieutenant Ferraro?” she inquired. “You’re the senior officer?” A frown of dread came upon her face at the idea.

“I’m the acting captain. Everybody senior had to go lead assault parties on the Interdictor.”

“I think they can stop,” Verlaine said. “I’ve been hailed by the Imperial captain. At the sight of our bomber squadron, he’s offering to surrender the _Entangler_.”

“You think it’s genuine?”

“Yes, it is,” Commander Blake’s voice barged into the conversation. “Torel—or what they thought was Torel—is out, and we’ve rattled this ship with holes anyway.”

“Ruby!” Verlaine exclaimed before returning to business. “What do you mean, _what they thought was Torel_?”

“Human replica droid,” Ahsoka informed them.

“But droids can’t use the Force.”

“Which is why I’m sure the real Torel is still alive.”

“Wait—he pulled those blasters—” Ruby began.

“Magnetic attractor. Only works on metal, far shorter range than the Force.” Ahsoka laughed. “Maybe I should look into getting gloves like that to compensate.”

“So what do we do?”

“The only thing we can,” sor Valetta stepped in. “I’m on the _Entangler’s_ bridge. I’ve accepted their offer of surrender. I assume, Captain Verlaine, that you intend to send a crew aboard and make use of this ship for the Alliance?”

“That’s what usually happens when a vessel surrenders.”

“I’m afraid I can’t permit it,” sor Valetta said. “We’re going to beam the Imperials aboard the _Memory of Alderaan_ in small groups. Disarm them and make sure none of them are Voss Torel. In case anyone is, I want Ahsoka and Ruby present.”

“Understood, ma'am,” Ahsoka said.

“All movement between ships will be by transporter. No shuttles. No escape pods. If any launch from the _Entanger_, shoot them down without hesitation.”

“In case it’s Torel.”

“Once we’ve got everyone, we’re overloading the _Entangler’s_ main reactor. I’m sorry,” she said. “But any use the Alliance might have made is not worth the risk of letting Torel escape.”

“If he’s here,” Verlaine’s first officer muttered.

“Not worth the risk. Ferraro, release the tractor beams and move the _Vicksburg_ away so no one sneaks aboard. Then let’s beam our prisoners over, blow this thing, and get out of here.”

She was answered by a chorus of “Yes, ma'am”‘s from the _Vicksburg_’s officers. Verlaine appeared more skeptical for a few seconds, but then resigned herself. “You’ve been through enough. Though now that you’ve got his droid, I have a feeling Torel had never left the Empire.”

“Probably not,” Ahsoka said. “But the captain’s right that it’s possible he’s here. I can’t feel him, Ruby is inexperienced, and those senses aren’t perfect anyway, and can be fooled by another Force-sensitive.”

“Exactly,” sor Valetta agreed.

“_Vicksburg_ holding five kilometers form _Entangler_,” Ferraro announced. “Captain, are you returning?”

“You seem to have things well in hand, Lieutenant,” she said. “Commander Blake and I will remain here until the last of the prisoners is away. And Ferraro?”

“Captain?”

“Stop the fucking countdown.”

* * *

“How’d you even know we were here?”

“Because Torel was still looking for you,” Verlaine explained. This not being a formal officer’s meeting, the carrier’s captain permitted Ruby Blake to share a chair with her, and the two entwined themselves. Neither sor Valetta nor Rieekan were inclined to order decorum under the circumstances. “Nice trick, captain, with removing your teleporter from the shuttles.”

“Given his failure _twice_, I’d have assumed the Empire would do our work for us and execute him,” Ruby muttered.

“If he was an ordinary operative, they probably would,” a woman with waist-length white hair said. “I’m Winter, by the way.”

“Pleased to meet you,” sor Valetta shook her hand.

“You’re a spy.”

“Ruby!”

“What? She is.”

Winter laughed. “Won’t be asking how you know,” she said. “I didn’t think’d I’d need a cover story _here_.”

“He was punished, in a way,” Winter explained. “That’s why he could summon a fleet of Star Destroyers at Peral, but managed only a lone Interdictor here. Partially my doing. When Verlaine told me about you, I fed the information about the failure to an agent I ran in Imperial Intelligence. Service rivalries did the rest.”

“Rivalries between II and ISB?”

“ISB is a cover for Torel,” Winter said. “Technically, he’s outside any chain of command. His title is… Emperor’s Hand.”

“EH!” Raya exclaimed. “That’s it means.”

“Only Palpatine can punish him. He must have done _something_ to convince the Emperor that the punishment wasn’t death. So we made sure we had the _Entangler_ tracked and monitored. And then, when we found out they were ready to move out, we risked a message.”

“That only leaves one mystery, then,” sor Valetta said. “How did _Torel_ find us?”

“The Force,” Ahsoka answered. “Assuming no one made a transmission from _Vicksburg_, I don’t see any other way.”

“Why did it take so long?”

The ex-Jedi shrugged. “I’m not big on speculation without evidence. There’s a rather elegant idea, but that’s all it is—he’s never done this sort of thing, tracking at such a distance. He needed additional training, and he had the replica droid made so that it would supervise his subordinates for him.”

Several people blanched. “Well, every prisoner we talked to is shocked to learn they were following a droid for months.”

“I hope they weren’t,” sor Valetta said. “If the real Torel was on the _Entangler_, he’s dead now.”

“Where are we going, by the way?”

“There’s been a fleetwide summons,” Verlaine said. “We’re assembling at Sullust. Good place to drop off the prisoners, too. A planet where a bunch of humans won’t blend into the local population even if they escape. And it’s an industrial world, so you can get the _Vicksburg_ repaired.”

“It’s in no shape for battle, but I’m sure the crew will want to help finish the job. And we can start the work needed for us to return home.” She gave a deep breath. “Thank you,” she said. “We are in your debt.”

“Ruby told me about the literal deadline you imposed there,” Verlaine said.

“Please don’t,” sor Valetta pleaded. “I’ve done it, I’m sure I would have followed through if it came to it, but I don’t want to even _think_ about it now that it’s in the past.” She breathed. “I can’t control how this spreads, but if the entire incident is forgotten, I won’t be unhappy.”

“Why?” Verlaine’s hereto quiet first officer spoke up. “The reasons made sense—why hide?”

“What’s your name?” sor Valetta asked.

“Jan. Jan Ors.”

“Well… Major Ors,” she noted the rank, “two things. Our situation was pretty unique. Starfleet does provide guidelines for when the captain should order self-destruct, but it’s very uncommon to know when a situation calling for it is going to arise with any warning, much less months in advance. I think it’s sufficient that every captain, with the consent of two of his, her or its senior officers, is authorized to do it. Everything surrounding is up to discretion based on the specific situation and the captain’s inclinations.

"Second,” she tapped her finger, “until you’re in the situation, you can’t know if you’re able to do something like this. The deadline is tempting; it gives an illusion of putting off the decision while still getting the same result. You have to be ready to shoot, or don’t draw the phaser.”

“But you won’t try to stop anyone from talking about it, either.”

“I don’t think any of my crew want to relive these months. Imposing silence won’t be good for them, either, though. I’ve done a lot of things since I arrived here that I never thought I’d do in my Starfleet career, starting with breaking the Prime Directive. At this point, I’m satisfied to follow my sense of right and wrong and accept the judgement of history. And of a Federation court, should my case ever come in front of one.”

Several people laughed. “It’ll be a while before it comes to that. _Vicksburg_ refitting will take time, and I’m not leaving a war right before it ends.”

“And if ends badly?”

“Not even then. You think I want to give the Empire a path to follow us home?”


	12. Vicksburg 11

“Sorry, Hue. You could come with us, you know.”

“I’m not a scientist, and it’s not like there’s much need for fighter pilots anymore,” he smiled. “When your experiment succeeds, and intergalactic travel is real, I’d love to see your home.”

“As much as I loved seeing yours?” she teased. Hays Minor wasn’t her idea of a vacation spot; if it felt a little like one, it was that for the first time in over a year, people weren’t trying to kill her.

Like all across the galaxy, the Empire left scars on the Otomak system; some obvious and some much more subtle but potentially as dangerous. With his background as a local detective who’d left before the gears of law enforcement were taken over by the Empire–who’d left _because_ the gears of law enforcement were taken over by the Empire–her husband had been tapped by the new democratic government for the task of setting up a new justice system. She wasn’t tapped into that world at all, anymore than he was into her research. One of the things that surprised her was that they didn’t seem to need that to love each other.

“Who asked to meet us?” Thanya glanced at her watch. “If they delay longer, the Captain will get impatient.”

“Ahsoka,” he said. “At least, it was her personal code.”

“I haven’t heard from her since Endor.”

Two figures approached them. “No way!”

“Hello, Lieutenants,” Ahsoka greeted. “I’ve caught this one with plans to the Assembly building and an incomplete bomb.”

“Jedi lies!” Voss Torel shouted. Ahsoka had bound his hands was pointing a blaster at his back.

“Is he real?”

“Oh, yes.”

Torel turned to Hue. “They made you Otomak’s Minister of Justice, didn’t they?”

“So they did,” Hue acknowledged.

“I was born here. I am a citizen of Otomak. This off-world religious fanatic has kidnapped me, tortured me, and is about to hand me over as a political prisoner to a tyrannical galactic government. How about some justice your proclaim yourself to be minister of?”

“Is he serious?” Thanya had to use all her will to not burst out in laughter.

Ahsoka did produce a giggle. “Torture? I took a blood sample to make sure he wasn’t another replica droid. As for the rest…”

“We have a word for that back on Earth,” Thanya said. “_Chutzpah._”

“And I have a word for you here,” Torel retorted. “Hypocrites.”

Hue produced an enigmatic smile. “Are you sure you want to go that way, Torel? Because we have plenty of things to try you for even before the Empire came to Otomak.”

“Do you? Any evidence? Oh, right. All the records are gone.”

Thanya then saw her husband make a wide grin. “I suppose you needed to get off the comms for a while to avoid getting captured,” he said. “Figures you wouldn’t hear the latest news.” He took out his official datapad. “Amedda surrendered Coruscant, so all Imperial archives are now in possession of the New Republic. Some was purged by loyalists, of course, but your sabotage here wasn’t important enough. Plenty to arrest you. If the sentence the New Republic isn’t severe enough, we can always hold an additional trial here.”

“Nice. I suppose after the experiment, we can make a small detour. I doubt Captain sor Valetta will want him in the Federation.” Thanya tapped her combadge. “Ferraro to _Vicksburg_.”

“_Vicksburg_ here,” the voice of Ruby Blake replied. “Something wrong?”

“On the contrary. Ahsoka captured Voss Torel.”

“The real one?” Blake demanded.

Torel laughed. “Everyone will doubt my ‘captors’ from now on. I love this.”

“The attitude argues for it,” Blake said. “Very well. I’ll have Raya in the transporter room and prepare the brig.”

A few minutes later, the combadge chirped. “We read your position.”

Thanya kissed Hue and he stepped away from the other three. “Ferraro to _Vicksburg_,” she said again. “Three to beam up.”

The shimmer took them and they emerged in the transporter room with a half-dozen phasers pointed at Torel. “Thank you, Jedi Tano,” Raya said. “Take him away.”

“Have we jumped to hyperspace?” Ferraro asked.

“Captain wants this experiment done soon.”

“I didn’t realize there was this much hurry. I would have–”

“We all needed the rest. We’ve had it… and we’ll have more once we’re home. Until then…” Raya sighed. “Caruthers left.”

“Why?” Thanya exclaimed.

“Says she’s got nothing to come back too. I don’t either, but… came as a surprise.”

“Alright. I’ll be prepping the shuttle for the experiment.”

“Luck, Commander,” Raya said.

“Thanks. Thanks for catching him, Ahsoka.”

The Togruta shrugged. “It was my duty.”

* * *

Thanya took the Starfleet shuttle out. The _Vicksburg_ had taken position in the sparse outer fringes of the galaxy, many lightyears away from populated systems.

“Science officer’s log, Stardate 52198.5, aboard the shuttle _McPherson_ attached to the USS _Vicksburg_. This will be a first attempt for deliberate intergalactic travel via warping hyperspace. If successful, this will allow the crew of the _Vicksburg_ to return home, and for permanent relations between the peoples of two galaxies. Aiding me in navigation is astromech droid R2-G3, who will be recording sensor data in backup for the _McPherson_‘s internal databanks.”

The droid chirped something. “Thank you.” She still wasn’t sure what to make of the ubiquitous automatons of this galaxy. She also wasn’t sure what the Federation would make of them, or of anything they’ve done here. Now that return was imminent, these concerns were no longer easily ignored. Possibilities included from commendations to prison sentences for Prime Directive violations–precedents existed for both.

“_Vicksburg_, this is _McPherson_. Onboard navicomputer and R2-G3 concur that the Milky Way is directly ahead.”

“Acknowledged, _McPherson_. Remember, hyperspace first, then warp, not the other way around,” Captain sor Valetta replied.

Thanya felt her eyes rolling. “I know, ma'am. Initiating jump.” She flipped the hyperdrive lever.

Things started happening, and not what she expected. For a moment, the control panel flashed and then shut down, and the shuttle began to turn its nose back into the galaxy.

“_McPherson_, what is going on?”

Thanya blinked, and worked the pilot controls. “I don’t know.”

Beep from the droid. “Locked out? By–”

“Voss Torel,” sor Valetta growled over the comm. “He _still_ wants to steal transporter tech.”

“I thought you removed it.”

“I had it reinstalled so you wouldn’t be stranded without,” the captain exclaimed. “I have no idea how he uploaded anything into the computer system–”

“Geethri, plug in and try to restore controls.”

“There are still remnants of the Empire,” Blake commented. “We can’t let them have it.”

“Right,” sor Valetta said. “Hold them with a tractor beam.”

The shuttle stopped turning. “Can you re-orient us?”

“Generally, but precisely…”

“I can do it.”

“Ruby? You never--”

“The Force.”

“Ahsoka? Can your magic be used for--”

The former Jedi bristled, but answered. "Yes, Captain. Precision piloting with the aid of the Force is a Jedi skill."

“Take the controls.”

The tractor beam resumed pushing _McPherson_ around, overpowering its thrusters and pointing the bow once more out of the galaxy. First the turns were large, then became more gentle and precise, and finally subsumed to almost imperceptible nudges. “Got it.”

“Lieutenant Ferraro, this was just to prevent the shuttle from falling into enemy hands. I am cancelling the experiment. As soon as you restore controls, proceed to return to the _Vicksburg_.”

Thanya felt like protesting, but she knew the captain was right. “Acknowledged, _Vicksburg_.”

Geethri whistled. “He says he found the trip. Control will be restored shortly.”

She was about to turn the _McPherson_ around when the shuttle jerked and the starfield in the viewport vanished.

“Ferraro, what the hell?”

Thanya cursed. “The launch command must be in the control buffer. Lifting the lock carried it out.”

Alarms rang out before sor Valetta replied. “These engines can’t handle the stress! _McPherson_ wasn’t designed to tow a ship the size of _Vicksburg_!”

And then, as if to prove her point, the warp core activated and an energy shock ran down the tractor beam. When it hit the _Vicksburg_’s hull, the a small explosion destroyed the emitter, severing the connection between the two ships. _McPherson_, carrying Lieutenant Thanya Ferraro, rushed forward into warped hyperspace making tens of thousands of light years per second; and _Vicksburg_ was left behind.

Just like the experiment they planned out, and utterly, utterly different.


	13. Interlude

_The United Federation of Planets had been merciful, practical, respectful and utterly inconsiderate_, Arlina Cantrell thought as her long-distance shuttle left behind Sivao XII. That world’s terraforming had been completed–in the sense that it was fit for human habitation under open skies–less than two decades before. That gave it two qualities common separately but very rare in combination: a very small population and a location deep in Federation territorry, far from any borders.

Perfect to host a prison.

Technically, Arlina’s husband was no longer a prisoner of war. Not even the easygoing–by her standards, at least–Starfleet would permit him to return where a chance of him contacting his former masters existed. She, on the other hand, had to go.

Damn them.

The orbit of Mars was a busy place, and it took a little while before her craft was able to find a docking space. Arlina didn’t like the matter transporters used here, even though she had gone through one without apparent problems. She didn’t mind much; a lifetime habit of arriving early gave her, absent any issues arising, time to scope out the new place. The behemoth of her ultimate destination, changed and yet familiar, attracted interest from her fellow passengers and, judging by the traffic, from many others as well.

The Utopia Planitia Station 4 welcomed her with more traffic, pedestrian this time. She considered what she could do in the several hours before she had to report. Unlike Deep Space Nine, there didn’t appear any gambling establishments, and she just wasn’t in the mood for immersing herself in a fictional adventure in a holosuite. She’d had more than enough real adventures lately.

A door attracted her attention. It was out of place in these corridors of plastic and metal; made of black wood with letters of polished brass arcing at the top, imitating a hand script. The sign was doubled up–larger writing at the top in a version of the most common local alphabet, and a smaller phrase underneath in Basic using Aurabesh. _The Captain’s Table_.

“I am the only one who can read that here, probably.” She had to make an effort to stop talking to herself. There _were_ a smattering of others, but hardly enough for someone to make an effort like that. Not that the sign in either language drew significant attention. Everyone she saw passed the strange door by without a glance–like it was something that had been there for years.

Arlina doubted an installation like this, with a nearby major shipyard deep in the heart of the Federation, would contain serious danger. Gliding through the crowd, she approached the door, turned the handle polished just as bright as the letters, and stepped inside.

After she closed the door and let her eyes get used to the darkness, she realized she was in a cantina. That brought her instincts up. She instantly noticed that proportionately, there were far fewer humans here than outside; her experience said such differences always had reasons behind them, and not knowing them could be dangerous.

Then, however, she recognized one person. He had been on the committee that debriefed her, in an advisory role, they said. She liked his questions.

“Admiral Picard,” she greeted.

“Captain, please. Or just Mr. Picard. The rank… never really fit me.”

“Captain, then. What’s this place?”

“A most curious institution. And usually an enjoyable one.”

She blinked. “That’s a Wookiee,” she said carefully, glancing across the table at which several games of chance were going on. “But that doesn’t make sense.”

“The Captain’s Table has doors in many places,” Picard said. “And it has proven immune to use as shortcut, weapon of war, or tool of intelligence gathering. I would advise not to attempt such subterfuge.”

“What is its use, then?”

“Shared experience. Captain.”

“I’m not a captain of anything, sir.”

The Wookiee lifted his shaggy black-furred head and erupted with a series of barks. Arlina frowned. “I wouldn’t see the door–you mean, we’re in some interdimensional pocket?”

“Indeed,” a Ferengi said from behind. “Drink for the lovely lady?”

“No, thanks. Are you saying everyone’s here has a ship?”

“Or used to have one,” Picard said. “For the moment, I’m still allowed.”

“Strange.”

“Yes, but wonderful. There are always stories worth hearing.”

“Stories?”

“The owner there,” Picard pointed to the bar, “has no use for money. And captains hardly use the same currency, or any at all. You pay by giving stories and taking those of others’.”

“I see.”

“Come on, Picard,” the Ferengi demanded. “You can gabber with a rookie all night. Let’s begin and get some more substance.”

“If it falls on me, Joum, I’ll tell the story of when you were the rookie,” a high-pitched voice said.

Its owner stepped out from behind the refresher door. “Iloo Wermi,” a female Pantoran said. “You’re from our galaxy.”

Arlina looked about. Humans were decidedly in the overall minority, but a substantial one, and she never noticed differences that could allow someone to instantly clock which galaxy’s branch of humanity someone belonged too. Specialists said even genetic tests could make that determination only probabilistically.

Then she spotted a lightsaber at the Pantoran woman’s belt. “You’re a Jedi.”

“Sort of,” she said.

“What’s a Djedi?” the Ferengi asked.

“Spin the wheel, Joum, and maybe you’ll find out.”

A disk split into sectors was brought out and placed on the table. A metal pole was thrust through it and an arrow was attached to it, allowing free spin, which everyone verified. “Ready?” Picard asked.

“Do it!”

The Wookiee took the tip of the arrow, drew back, and swung his arm forward, releasing it. The silver rod became a blur as it spun, and it took several minutes before friction even began to slow it down. While the improvised roulette worked, Picard explained.

“Each sector has a description of a person written underneath, but in relation to others. ‘The tallest’. ‘The oldest’. ‘The one with the fewest hairs on his head’,” he mused. “Whoever matches the description will be the one telling the story.”

“It’s not always how we choose,” Wermi interjected. “But some people love gambling, even if it’s not with money.” She pointedly glanced at the Ferengi. “You, Joum, like it because it’s the only way for anyone to agree to listen to you.”

“Why?”

“He’s only got two stories,” Wermi dismissed. “I went to a new planet, and scammed the natives out of a lot of money. I went to a new planet, and the natives saw through my scam, and cost me a lot of money.”

“I’m here.”

Picard motioned at them to stop. The spinner’s arrow was now hovering over a bright turquoise sector. The barkeep reached, picked up the card from it, and turned over.

“The one with the shortest tenure as captain.”

Arlina sighed. “I doubt it’s anyone but me.”

“Really?” Joum demanded. “This is a pretty old crowd.”

The Wookie made a growl of protest. “Four months,” Arlina mused. “Try… four minutes. And that’s generous.”

That brought up a lot of heads. “This should be worth hearing,” Wermi said.

“I suppose so. I had been chief engineer of the First Order Star Destroyer _Punisher_…”


	14. Punisher 1

### Part II: Punisher

#### 1

“Lieutenant Commander–”

“No.”

“What?”

“I know what you’re going to say,” Arlina told the officer who requested to see her. “When are you fighter jockeys going to get it through your thick skulls that safety protocols exist for a reason?”

“When are you safety maniacs going to get it through _your_ thick skulls that war is risk?”

“Risk, yes. Stupid risk, no. She tapped her datapad. "I’ve got damage reports from _Penalizer_, _Exterminator_, _Ripper_, and _Voidmaker_ where they pulled the trick you’re asking me to, and–”

“I didn’t ask–”

“–that’s just in the last month. Please, Colonel. Like I said, every new head of the starfighter contingent asks me to do this. No.”

“It’ll–”

“Speed up TIE launch time by a factor of three to four by overloading the magnetic launch racks with power from the main reactor. The key is _overloading_. I.E., above the specs these racks were made for. Which increases fatigue and results in unexpected breakages.”

“That never happened in the Empire.”

That snapped her. “One. Yes it did, it was just hushed up. Two. The Empire had access to resources of most of the galaxy, and so could more high-quality metal. Three. You’re talking like you’d been there.”

“I was.”

She looked him over. “I’m sorry, sir. You appear far to young to have been even born before Endor.”

“I know that, Commander Cantrell. There is a story. If I tell it, will you bulge?”

“No. Because guess what–the fatigue doesn’t kick in at standown. It does so _during_ operation, putting at risk _your_ TIE crews as well as _my_ damage control parties. I’m looking out for _everyone’s_ safety here.”

“Except when time is critical to hit the enemy.”

“That isn’t predictable. Breakages when you abuse the machinery are.”

“What if the captain orders you to do it?”

“He won’t,” Arlina declared. “Now, how about that story?”

He smiled. “I created the First Order pilot training program, when we were just starting to build up,” he said. “I knew it would be years, and I wanted to be old enough to fight the Rebels when the time came. So I asked General Hux–Brendol Hux, that is–to freeze me in carbonite and have me revived for the war.”

“Spreading Rebel propaganda, are we now?”

“Hux said that, too. But he agreed. So here I am. And you still won’t boost my TIE racks?”

“Nice try, Colonel. But, no.”

“Then maybe you can give me something else.”

“Oh?” she raised her eyebrows. “What?”

“A date.”

That was unexpected. “Hmm…” she said. “I’ll need to think. You’ve just said you’re thirty years older than me, and I don’t even have your name. Both are points against.”

“I was as old as you when I went into the carbonite, so it doesn’t count. And the other problem is easily fixed.” He extended his hand. “Nash. Nash Windrider.”

* * *

“Are you sure they’ll be here, General?”

“As sure as things ever are,” Sabine Wren answered.

“Ship emerging!”

“See. Nothing to worry about.”

“It’s a Star Destroyer!”

Sabine laughed. “You need to learn your ships better. Hail them. New Republic Interdictor _Harmony_, this is Mandalorian cruiser _Ghost III_. Thanks for coming.”

“_Ghost III_, acknowledged. This is Captain Thane Kyrell, commanding _Harmony_.”

“General Sabine Wren of Mandalore,” Sabine introduced herself.

“What’s this about?” Kyrell asked.

“The First Order,” she said. “They’re planning to attack the Republic.”

“We all know that, even the boneheads in the Senate,” Kyrell growled.

“The scheme is different. They’re moving ships into Republic space first. The invasion precedes the attack, and the attack, when it comes, comes from all directions, not just the border.”

“I see.”

“This a chance to ambush them first, and have clear proof of invasion. It’s a chance to spoil their surprise. Power up your gravity wells, Captain Kyrell.”

“Will do, General.”

“Fleet, stand by.”

The wait felt far longer than it was, but then there was a bright flash in the viewport.

“Star Destroyer!” someone cried.

“For real, this time?” Sabine demanded.

“Yes, ma'am. _Resurgent_-class–”

“Map,” Sabine ordered. A holographic image filled the empty center of the bridge. Nearly fifty sleek Mandalorian ships flying in formation glowed green; slightly off to the side was the blue image of _Harmony_, and some thousands of kilometers away, the First Order’s red behemoth.

They weren’t in any star system, per se, but this cluster was dense enough that instead of pitch darkness with star as points, the sky contained several more or less stable glowing regions. Gravity was also erratic, forcing ships to compensate or start drifting.

“Begin broadcast,” Sabine said. “First Order vessel, your presence in Republic space is illegal. Remove yourselves, or you will be considered invaders and dealt with accordingly.”

“You really think that’ll work?” Kyrell asked.

“Never hurts to try,” she muttered. “But no, I don’t.”

“There’s trouble,” he said.

“What about?”

“I can… sense it.”

“You’re no Jedi, Kyrell,” Sabine said.

“I could have been,” he joked. “Ciena objected to the ‘no attachment’ thing.”

The First Order ship remained silent—no surrender, no threats, no taunts. Sabine was about to order an attack when the entire sky seemed to rupture with light. Everyone on the _Ghost III_‘s bridge was blinded. When sight returned, they were treated to an impossible sight. In between the Mandalorian fleet and the Star Destroyer lay a violent swirl of white and purple nearly ten kilometers across.

“What was that?”

“What _is_ that?”

“Why are we moving?”

The last question triggered something in Sabine. “We are?”

The Mandalorian at the conn station nodded. “That thing’s got gravity, and it’s pulling us in. Pulling them in, too—look.”

The First Order ship was indeed tilting towards the phenomenon. “_Harmony_, report.”

“My gravity projectors got overloaded,” Kyrell said. “They pulled whatever _that_ was from hyperspace and the interaction–it’s a major gravity well, and getting stronger.”

“That’s imposs—”

“He’s right, ma'am,” another officer said. “Either that thing’s denser than a neutron star, and getting more stuff in it, or—”

“_Harmony_, can you move?”

“Thrusters only.”

“Tractor beams,” she ordered. “Pull her away! NOW!”

“Yes, ma'am.” The _Ghost III_’s engines fired up, and the Mandalorian fleet locked onto the Republic Interdictor before thrusting away from the phenomenon. The ship first stopped drifting, then, agonizingly slow, began to pull away. Sabine monitored engine power readouts to make sure they were alright, then ordered up a zoom up on the enemy.

The Star Destroyer was a lot closer when the interaction between the Interdictor’s gravity well and whatever it pulled from hyperspace produced the phenomenon, and was under stronger gravity. It had turned sternward to them and was firing all its engines at full thrust—to little effect, as it was still falling towards the phenomenon.

“We wanted to destroy it,” her first officer commented.

“We also wanted prisoners and their hardware,” Sabine said.

As if to underscore that that wouldn’t happen, they watched, riveted to the display, as the tip of the Star Destroyer’s bow vanished within the swirls, leaving no mark to indicate it was ever there.

Then came the third big shock, after the Star Destroyer’s arrival and the phenomenon itself. The purple light ball vanished as well, leaving empty space. The _Ghost III_, along with _Harmony_ and the rest of the Mandalorian fleet, suddenly free of the gravity field, accelerated away until they dropped the tractor beam and the pilot shut down the main engines and stabilized the trajectory. Everyone was absolutely still; so was the space outside. No streak across the sky, no swirls of purple light, and no Star Destroyer.

“General, we have a Priority One Alert coming in,” Kyrell informed them. “I don’t believe it.”

“What happened?”

They listened in even more stunned silence as the Republic major, stuttering every third word and unable to hold himself together, informed the galaxy of the destruction visited on Hosnian Prime by a First Order superweapon. All planets in the system, the fleet—just gone.

“The weapon. It had to have used hyperspace to just destroy Hosnian Prime,” Kyrell stammered out. “We must have intercepted a portion of it. That was what it was.”

“Probably,” Sabine agreed, gathering herself, clenching and unclenching fists several times, and keeping tears away by force of will. “Prepare a message buoy. Drop everything our sensors recorded here into it. When it’s ready to launch, send it to my console so I can input the destination.”

No one joked, as would usually happen when she did this on previous occasion. Everyone knew the information was going to the Resistance—and this was more urgent than anything they sent before. Sabine watched the automated probe disappear into hyperspace before giving out the next order.

“We’re returning to Mandalore. This is what that Star Destroyer was waiting for. We _know_ they weren’t the only one—and we probably got lucky here. Thank you for your help, Captain Kyrell. I’m sorry–”

“Don’t,” he pushed his distress down. “I… I felt it happen. The deaths.”

“A lot of people did. Something this big doesn’t take a Jedi.”

“No… it’s not that. I only felt the distant ones.”

“What do you mean?”

“That Star Destroyer had thousands of crew. I didn’t feel _them_ die.”

“Is that reliable, Captain?”

“Possibly not,” he said. “I only have these sporadic instincts, not formal training. But it’s very possible that that ship is intact and had just _gone_ somewhere. Assuming it was going to attack Mandalore…”

“I see what you mean. We’ll keep that in mind. You need an escort?”

He shook his head. “I’m leaving now. May the Force be with you, General Wren.” 

* * *

“Hard to port,” Filia Ren ordered.

The crew—those that had them—raised their eyebrows, but obeyed promptly. The Mandalorian cruisers were lining up into formation, but they were still too far to do much damage—and the timing was perfect.

“Starkiller has fired,” someone reported.

“Stand by.”

The enemy would soon receive the news… and chances were, they wouldn’t be thinking clearly. That was the best way to fight a battle, Filia thought. 

But instead of a report on the destruction of Hosnian Prime and chaos among the enemy that would follow, their viewport lit up with a flash of purple light and the _Punisher_ lurched.

“What did we hit?”

Captain Vand scanned the officers at sensor stations. “Yes?”

“Nothing, sir,” one replied. “Gravity changed. That thing has a lot of mass, whatever it is.”

“Then what are you waiting for? We’re facing away from it now—full speed ahead!”

“Yes, ma'am.” And the captain looked at her strangely. They were facing away because she ordered that turn—before anything happened.

Even though the mask hid any expression, the Knight exercised discipline and avoided a physical smile. An opportunity to show to her crew that she deserved Snoke’s favor and her post. Such knowledge made the crew more willing to fight, and more watchful of their activities, all without extra effort on Filia’s part.

“It’s not working, ma'am,” the captain said. “The engines are only slowing us down, but we’re still falling in.”

“Tactical.”

A hologram lit up in the middle of the bridge, showing the phenomenon, the _Punisher_, and in the distance, the Mandalorian fleet that had broken formation. She felt a burst of anger—none of their ships were in their predicament.

“Fire up the hyperdrive.”

“In this gravity?”

“If it’s gravity and not some sort of tractor beam.”

“Yes, ma'am. Jump”

A loud rumble and series of vibrations pierced the ship, but no starlines appeared in the viewport.

“Damage report.”

“Sir, the drive coil cracked.”

“Guess that answers the question.”

“Contact with the phenomenon in twenty seconds!”

“Brace!”

“Contact!”

Unlike previously, they felt nothing. “Report from aft!” the captain shouted.

Crewmembers responsible for other parts of the ships acknowledged their presence. “The ship is intact, sir.”

“Shut down the engines,” Filia ordered.

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Aft sensors register nothing.”

At this point, the edge of the phenomenon, passed over the bridge. The viewports got flooded with a steady, featureless, purplish light with occasional swirls of orange.

“That is not nothing.”

“I think it’s more than the sensors can handle, ma'am. We’re still getting data from the forward sensors. Everything’s normal there.”

“Not for long,” she said. “When will the bow be inside?”

“Twelve seconds, ma'am.”

“Brace!”

“Pretty colors,” someone whispered.“

"Silence!”

On schedule, the last sensor data vanished as the _Punisher_ plunged completely into the phenomenon. At that moment, a jolt came, much like what happened in normal transition to hyperspace. The viewport imaging also changed to something more familiar, though the swirls were green and black rather than the usual blue and white.

“I have an idea, ma'am,” a young man from one of the engineering stations said.

“Speak.”

“We fire up the backup hyperdrive, and then attempt to drop out, like we do when we reach our destination.”

“Do it.”

The work was done quickly, but had no effect. Several seconds of silence passed. “Aim forward turbolasers,” Filia Ren ordered.

“Yes, ma'am,” the captain said. Filia walked behind the weapons control officer and saw the indicator lights in orange on her console. “Ready, Lieutenant?”

“Yes, ma'am,” the woman stammered out.

“Fire!”

“At what?”

“Fire!” she yelled and the officer hit a key. Bolts flashed forward and vanished, being the same bright green as the background. But then a white flash appeared and grew rapidly until they passed right through it. The ship made a small jolt.

“Stand by, Lieutenant,” the Knight said. “There’ll be more. No questions next time. Fire.”

Nothing happened ahead. “Ma'am?”

“No questions. That was a test. Fire!”

This time, a flash appeared slightly to port. The shudder came from that direction two seconds later.

Silence descended on the bridge, interrupted only by Filia Ren’s harsh commands.

“Fire!” Flash. Shudder.

“Fire!” Flash. Shudder.

Over two minutes, the turbolasers destroyed about fifteen targets of unknown nature. Then, things transformed again. The swirls remained green, but became calmer, lazier, and brighter. Then, in the middle of that white field, a human face appeared.

Filia studied it carefully. Male, dark skin, bald but with a thick beard and mustache framing his mouth. He looked solemn and his large brown eyes pierced her. The Force rumbled. She could feel nothing from the stranger but he apparently had the same effect on her crew.

“Filia Ren, you brought violence to this realm,” the stranger pronounced.

“I sensed a danger to the ship,” she justified. “I eliminated it.”

“You could have avoided it.”

“Do not lecture the First Order,” she snapped.

“Turn back. All of you.”

“Why?”

“Things will not end well for the First Order regardless of your actions. You could avoid being caught in the calamity.”

“The First Order is triumphant.”

“You have your home galaxy, Filia Ren. I have the power to return you home. And to keep you safe there.”

“Then do so.”

“I have a price. You will agree to surrender every weapon on your ship. You will not return to the First Order, but lead peaceful lives.”

Filia snorted. “Peace is a lie. What will happen if I refuse?”

“You will enter a new galaxy. One that was my home before I joined with other beings in this realm. There you will meet your end and the end of the First Order.”

“But we will have our weapons?”

The head nodded.

“What is your name, stranger?”

He paused. “Benjamin Sisko, Captain, Starfleet, United Federation of Planet, Emissary to the Prophets of the people of Bajor.”

Filia straightened herself and looked straight at the apparition. “We will speak, Benjamin Sisko, when your former home belongs to the First Order.”

“One more chance, Glayna Werrak,” the name from long ago rang in her ears.

“My name is Filia Ren!” she declared. “Grant your chances to our enemies. They will need them.”

Sisko’s face vanished. The swirls turned from green to purple and then vanished, replaced by a regular starfield. The purple swirls remained in a ring astern, straight ahead floated a space station composed of two concentric rings, a hub in the center, and six arched pylons extending above and below the outer ring.

The captain of the Star Destroyer paged through several screens on his console. “Shielded and armed, but no match for us,” he announced.

“Blast it with ion cannons,” Filia ordered. “Then deploy a stormtrooper company and take control. Set weapons for stun.

"Have the intelligence section prepare for a lot of interrogation work.”


	15. Punisher 2

Thanya Ferraro’s comm chirped the moment she exited the Captain’s Table. “Ferraro to _Trident_,” she snapped out. “What is it?”

“Secure message from Starfleet Command,” her first officer replied.

“Understood. One to beam up.”

She made in quickly into her ready room, and activated the comm screen. The grim face of Admiral Riker put her on alert. The Commander in Chief of Starfleet didn’t usually give orders directly to ship captains.

“Admiral.”

“Captain, I am very sorry. Two hours ago, we lost all contact with the Bajor system. Deep Space Nine came under attack first. They’ve managed to send out a few images. I’ve never seen anything like that, but I remembered reading about something similar. In _your_ report, Captain, shortly after you returned aboard the shuttle _McPherson_, the lone survivor of _Vicksburg_.

He tapped a key, and photos appeared on her screen. There was a portion of a curved pylon from Deep Space Nine, and behind it, a grey shadow that was all too familiar. "Star Destroyer,” she said, not believing it. It was bigger than the standard Imperial ships she remembered, and looked somewhat flattened, but undoubtedly part of the same design tradition.

“I don’t believe it,” she said. “How did it arrive?”

“Through the Bajoran wormhole, apparently.”

“That’s… not possible.” She scrolled through a few more images. Shuttles, TIE fighters–new variants, but not that different.

“It _is_ what you encountered when the _Vicksburg_ was swept into another galaxy?”

“Yes, sir,” she said. “Iterated design. But it makes no sense!”

“What do you mean?”

“We _won_. This is our _enemy’s_ design. The Galactic Empire.”

“Last refugees fleeing justice?”

She considered. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“I’ve ordered _Tokyo_ to investigate–”

“No–you have to call her back!”

“Why?”

“They will destroy her, take the crew, and torture everything they know out of them.”

“_Tokyo_ is a full–”

“Sir, re-read my report. _In detail_. That ship is the most powerful single vessel that we know of in our galaxy, and that _includes_ Borg cubes and Species 8472 cruisers, which we really can’t count on to be our allies, can we? It’s also capable of much faster travel, which means it can show up _anywhere_ at _any time_, as far as we are concerned. We need to force them into battle, we need to bring in every ship we can to bear, and we need to do it _soon_. Before they start up a shipbuilding program _here_ and we lose numerical advantage, too.”

“Surely they can’t crew–”

“Cardassians,” she declared. “If their leadership has any brains, that’s where they’ll go. Their culture is quite compatible with most Imperial ideology, and there are a number who want revenge for the Dominion war. And they’re nearby.”

Riker was taken aback. “A full-scale war with one ship?”

“That’s right,” she said. “It’s unfortunate I was unable to bring back any of their technology. If this is the first prong of an invasion, we’re doomed, and it’s time to prepare to turn guerilla. But if it’s an accident involving one ship–what happened to _Vicksburg_, but the other way–then we have a chance. If we take it now.”

Riker nodded. “Return to Earth,” he ordered. “You are _the_ expert on this enemy.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, straining.

“I’m sorry, Captain. I know you have a wife and son on Bajor–”

“Going off on my own will hardly help them,” she said. _Besides,_ she gave an internal laugh, _Laren’s paranoia, which I teased her about all these years, is about to pay off._

* * *

The ship, prominently visualized on one of the main screens, looked familiar to those who’d studied the captured files from Deep Space Nine. A saucer front section with two pairs of nacelles trailing behind, bright white, as if it didn’t care who saw it from aways. Starfleet.

“Anything?” Filia demanded.

“They made a transmission.”

“Play it.”

On another screen, a woman with dark skin and black hair appeared, wearing a black uniform jacket with a wide maroon stripe on each sleeve and four solid gold pips on the collar. She made a short speech in a strange language, the voice soft but calm and firm. “What did she say?”

“Replay the message with translation overlay,” an officer ordered. “Ma'am,” he told her, “they—the locals—have technology to do this in real time, but I don’t trust it.”

“Good, Lieutenant. How’d you get this, then?”

“Standard module same one protocol droids use. Requires recording, but it’s reliable, and makes independent verification easier.

The woman now appeared to speak Basic. "Attention, First Order forces. This is Captain Sabrina Keating of the USS _Tokyo_. Your presence in Federation space is illegal. You have committed an act of aggression against a Federation member. You must leave immediately, or face the consequences.”

“What can she do to us?”

“Nothing. Not with the shields up, at least.”

“Weapons?”

“Missiles loaded, turbolaser batteries armed and ready.”

“No.” Filia tapped a button on the ship’s intercom. “Colonel Windrider, launch First and Sixth squadrons and go out there yourself as group leader.” She turned to the conn. “Turn our dorsal side to the _Tokyo_ and keep it so. I don’t want them to see the TIEs until they’re on the way. Ion cannons stand by.”

She looked out the viewport as the order was obeyed. When the two squadrons—one of TIE fighters and another one of bombers—launched, she nodded at the general.

“Number Four ion cannon, fire.”

A red bolt lanced from the _Punisher_ and struck _Tokyo_.

“Their shields are down, they’re dead in space,” the report came in. “Sir, if they drift, they’ll fall to Bajor—”

“It won’t take that long,” Filia Ren declared. “Squadron Six, breach their hull.”

Flashes of the bombardment reached them through the viewport. Filia Ren stood, hands behind her back, watching the procedure.

“Report, Colonel Windrider.”

“Hull breached, they’re launching escape pods.”

“How many?”

“Twenty-four.”

“Squadron One, destroy them.”

“Unarmed—”

She used a gentle, caressing voice for her next order. “Any fighter who fails to shoot down at least one will be denied landing on the _Punisher_. That includes you, Colonel. Report when it’s done.”

The report was not long in coming. All fighters of Squadron One were permitted to land.

“Major,” she turned to the officer in charge of the bridge electronic systems, “I’m assigning you temporarily to Lieutenant Colonel Milanka. Take any of your personnel you need, collate the sensor records from the _Punisher_ and Squadrons One and Six, and put together a holorecording of this battle. All of it, from the moment the _Tokyo_ came out of lightspeed. Edit out the use of the ion cannon,” she grinned in a feat of inspiration. “Then have Colonel Milanka show you how to convert the result into format various systems in this galaxy can read, and have it broadcast widely.”

“Understood, ma'am,” the major reported.

“Good.”

The general seemed skeptical. “What will that give us?”

“Fear. Two squadrons of fighters take out one of their starship with no losses. They’ll estimate how many such squadrons we carry, and how much more powerful than the fighters the _Punisher_ itself must be.”

“And if it causes them to unite against us?”

“We move faster, too. So when the big fleet arrives here, we leave to strike out at the undefended homeworlds.”

“We only have one ship, though.”

“For now, general. For now.”

* * *

Ro Laren hugged her son. “Go,” she whispered.

He tapped a combadge and beamed away. Ro dropped into her chair and pretended to read a PADD. The wait wasn’t long. Eight stormtroopers came in first, then a uniformed officer, and finally, the black-robed, metal-masked Knight of Ren.

“Ro Laren,” the dark warrior barked at her.

Ro ignored the summons.

“Ro Laren!” Filia Ren raised her voice.

Ro continued pretending to read the PADD until it flew out of her hands and smashed into a wall. Then she felt herself being raised by an invisible force. Her neck landed into Filia Ren’s gloved palm and Ro received a slight but painful squeeze.

“You are Ro Laren, founder and director of the SMB Shipbuilding company?”

“I am,” Ro said.

Filia threw her back into her chair. “We’re taking over.”

“Really?”

“We are. But in the interest of efficiency, we’d like to retain you as director. I assure you, we mean no harm to the people of Bajor.”

“We’ve heard _that_ song before.”

“We intend to use it against the Federation.”

“That’s the problem, then. Bajor is a member of the Federation.”

“They don’t seem to care. Many Bajorans opposed the union.”

“People have different opinions.”

“You were one of them.”

“I never got a chance to cast my vote,” she said. “It’s certainly preferable to being part of your First Order.”

“You refuse, then?”

“I do.”

“Kill her.”

The stormtroopers opened fire. Ro’s body collapsed… and their surroundings transformed. the room they were in was empty of all furniture and decoration, and its walls, floor and ceiling exhibited a black-and-yellow grid pattern. There was no body, but just then, the figure of Ro Laren reappeared.

“Greetings. I set up this holodeck office personally, and told no one so you couldn’t torture that information out of any of my employees. These surprises will happen to you over and over until you leave Bajor, so you might as well do so now. As for your offer—the answer is still no.” The image of Ro lifted a small device and hit a button. The room the First Order delegation was in, the building it occupied, and many square kilometers of the shipyard were consumed by a simultaneous blast of the self-destruct mechanisms.

* * *

Filia Ren felt unbalanced. She let her eyes flicker and took in the sight of the _Punisher_‘s sickbay, herself on the ed, and the worried-looking face of Dr. Grumio, the ship’s chief medical officer. “My Lady,” he acknowledged.

“What happened?”

“An explosion—”

“To me, doctor! I am alive, but…” she tried to verbalize the feeling, but there was no standard of comparison.

“I had to remove the damaged—”

“WHAT. DID. YOU. DO?”

“Here.” He handed the Knight a hand-held mirror and carefully stepped back. Fear poured off him in the Force. Filia shook her head and held the mirror up.

A familiar red-skinned face with large brown eyes and a thin nose greeted her. Familiar except for what wasn’t there. A long flexible headtail still extended from behind her on the right side, but the corresponding left lek was gone. The left backside of her head was covered by synthskin, slightly mismatched in hue from the rest of her, and protected with a plasteel plate. She rubbed the skull and triggered several yelps of pain from where bone met the plasteel.

“I’m sorry, ma'am. There are no… prosthetics.”

She dragged the doctor and pushed him down to his knees with the Force. “That is an abomination, human.” She rose. “Bring me my clothes.”

“Ma'am, you still need—”

“You can do your quackery when I sleep. My time is valuable.” She spotted a commpad on the table and summoned it. Tapping in her access, she initiated the call.

“General.”

“Ma'am? You—”

“I want Ro Laren captured. No bounties—our forces only. Alive.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“I want it to be very clear, General. Letting her go is preferable to killing her in the raid.”

The general blinked, then looked and realized what happened. “You mean—understood, ma'am.”

She nodded. “She will wish she was dead long before I will.” Background noise alerted her. “What’s going on?”

The general turned away for a few seconds. “A Federation starship has arrived in system.”

“I’m heading to the bridge. Do nothing.” The medical staff had laid out the black robes, mask, and lightsaber while she talked, and soon, Filia Ren was out in the hallways of the _Punisher_ with no one except the general and those directly involved in surgery knowing what befell her.

* * *

Lieutenant Commander Arlina Cantrell, chief engineer of the _Punisher_, was surprised to see her boyfriend outside her quarters when she answered the knock. He was on first duty shift, she on third, meaning he was on duty right as she was going off. She often wondered if such scheduling was deliberate, aimed at putting strain on a relationship. She was, in fact, about to go to sleep when Nash showed up.

“May I come in?” he whispered hoarsely.

She nodded. “You look… terrible. What happened?”

“Later.” He rushed to the refresher and vomited. “Got something strong? Corellian brandy? Commenor gin? Port in a storm?”

“None of those,” she replied and pressed a cup into his hands. “Try this.”

He gulped down the powerful alcohol like it was water. “Thanks.”

“If I give you more, it won’t get out by the time you have to fly tomorrow.”

“I flew more than enough today.”

“So what happened?”

And Colonel Nash Windrider poured everything out. How the two squadrons were ordered out to fly against a Federation ship rendered helpless. How once the hull was breached, they had to watch bodies expelled into space. How Filia Ren ordered the massacre of the escape pods. How he had to pump himself full of anti-nausea drugs to avoid throwing up in the cockpit.

Arlina listened and held him in a hug, and made no objection when he poured another mug from her bottle of confiscated hooch and swallowed it. Then she helped him lie down on their bunk and lowered into a chair at his side, caressing his face. “Who else knows?”

“Didn’t you pay attention? Filia Ren ordered a broadcast of it prepared. No one is keeping it secret.”

“I meant your feelings.”

“No one.”

“Good. You understand the danger, then?”

“Go to Major Rull if you want.”

“If I do, I might as well shoot you myself.”

“That doesn’t sound bad right now.”

“It’s bad. For one thing, it won’t accomplish anything.”

“Accomplish—what should it accomplish?”

“Making sure this doesn’t happen again.”

He snorted. “That can mean a lot of things. Filia Ren believes fear will make sure of it.”

“It might at that. I don’t see it as an improvement.”

“It’s order.”

She stared.

“I always hated Alderaanians who defected to the rebels after our planet was destroyed. The rebels brought it upon themselves; survivors’ anger should have been aimed at them. Our galaxy was plunged into chaos, and this one looks even worse. We have to—”

“Stop, Nash,” she whispered. “You can say all these things. Do you believe them?”

He produced no answer. “You drinking yourself blind with me instead of celebrating a great victory with pilot buddies. As far as I’m concerned, that proves you don’t. And the people I hate most are those who try to make others believe what they don’t believe themselves. Don’t make me hate you, Nash.”

He smiled for the first time. “I won’t. But I still don’t know what to do.”

“Isn’t it obvious? This rule by fear comes from Supreme Leader Snoke and his Knights of Ren. We’ve got a unique opportunity—cut off from all but one. From our perspective, the problem is Filia. At least, for now.”

Nash frowned. “What do you mean, for now?”

“She isn’t stupid. We are the most powerful ship in the region, maybe in this galaxy, but we’re still only one ship. There are plans to remedy that. Filia will soon do the same for the Knights of Ren.”

“She will take on an apprentice.”

She nodded. “And in a few years, two galaxies in fear—Supreme Leader Snoke and Supreme Leader Filia.”

He chortled. “Do we hope for reconnection and mutual destruction?”

Arlina shook her head. “Not good. We will be their weapons in such a war. No, Filia Ren needs to be destroyed while she is still the only one.”

“How?”

“It will only happen if her choice of an apprentice backfires. If instead of continuing the Knights, the apprentice destroys her with the very skills she teaches, and will not train their own.”

He understood. “We can’t confide in anyone.”

“No. She has to choose you or me. So if you encounter an order to conduct some unusual training evaluation, try to do well. It may be a secret admission test.”


	16. Punisher 3

A bright green turbolaser bolt lashed out from the Star Destroyer and struck the runabout. Everything was awash in green light, and then the black-and-yellow holodeck grid reappeared all around Captain Thanya Ferraro and her astromech droid, R2-G3.

“Simulation concluded,” the computer voice pronounced. “Mission failed.”

“Thanks, I really couldn’t tell,” she spat. “And that new ship is _bigger_ than the ones we fought,” she commented. “More heavily armed.”

A chirp from the droid. “Yeah,” she said. “I wish he was here, too.”

An arch popped into existence and the doors slid open. “Captain?” her first officer’s voice echoed.

“Come in, Commander,” she said, and Harry Kim walked in. “Did something happen?”

“Hi, Genie,” he greeted the droid by the nickname she gave him. “No, but we’re concerned. You’ve been spending a lot of time here, and it’s not like you to lose yourself in fantasy.”

“I am not,” she said. “I’m training.”

“For what?”

“A mission I have in mind.”

“Let me guess. It’s not one command would approve of.”

“Astute, Mr. Kim.”

“What else is in the way, ma'am?”

“Huh?”

“I need some details to help you, Captain. Command is the unimportant obstacle. What else is there?”

“You would–”

“You know my service record,” he said. “You know who my first captain was.”

She did, of course. She also remembered the harrowing aftermath of their transition to a new galaxy, and how Cindy sor Valetta acted with so little going for her.

_And now I’m the captain_. “Command needs to know about our enemy, and their sources are quite limited. There’s this fellow’s memory core,” she padded Genie’s dome, “and there’s my brain. So the _Trident_ is going to sit here, safely in Earth orbit, because they’ll not risk either.”

“That even makes sense.”

“No, it doesn’t, Commander. You’re forgetting that whatever the two of us remember, it’s been _thirty years_. It’s useful to know what our enemy’s predecessor was like, but it’s far _more_ useful to know what they’re up to _now_.”

“And you have a way to find that out?”

She padded the droid again. “It involves this little guy,” she said. “The Empire always used a lot of droids, and they’re never noticed unless they draw attention to themselves. I want to get Genie aboard the _Punisher_.”

“How?”

“An ionic charge in one of our quantum torpedoes. It will distrupt their shields for a few seconds, and we can use that window to beam him in. But that requires getting quite close and lasting long enough. The _Trident_ is too big, it’ll get pulverized.”

“So you’re going to use a shuttle?”

She nodded. “I’m running simulations against an _old_ version of the Star Destroyer,” she said. “And I _still_ fail. Every time. I’m not a good enough pilot.”

Kim snorted. “Is that all, Captain?”

She looked at him. “I’ve been rated. I’m _good_, I know that. To carry this off,” she gestured, “needs someone _extraordinary_.”

Kim nodded. “And I know just the man.”

* * *

“Captain, we’re being hailed.”

“On screen.” Thanya tried to occupy herself with general administration of her ship, while they were under orders to remain in the Sol System in case command needed her expertise on the enemy’s home galaxy. The work was just as boring as usual, but there suddenly–impossibly–seemed to be not enough of it. She noticed that she was jumping at any interruption, and was struggling to control herself.

The viewscreen showed a _Defiant_-class starship, in one of the newer modifications. Then the view was replaced by a Tellarite female in the uniform of a Starfleet Lieutenant Commander appeared. “Captain Ferraro,” she said. “This is the USS _Nereid_. Our captain requests permission to beam aboard the _Trident_.”

“Granted,” Ferraro said. “Lieutenant Troca,” she informed the comm officer, “you have the bridge. She tapped the combadge. "Commander Kim, meet me at the transporter room.”

“I’m already there, ma'am.”

She wondered what this meant over the turbolift trap. She exited to find Kim in an embrace with an older man, a Captain like her. She then recognized him from the old footage of the USS _Voyager_.

“Tom, meet Captain Thanya Ferraro of the USS _Trident_. Captain, Tom Paris.”

“I know,” she said, and shook his hand. “Hello. I was under the impression that _Defiant_ ships were considered too small for full Captains.”

“Hence, they saddle us with extra duties,” Paris said. “I’ve got _Nereid_ and the squadron she’s part of to look out for. Harry says you need some tricky piloting?”

“Do you want to rest, Captain?”

“If you’re right, time is not on our side, Captain,” he said. “You don’t intend to throw me into the mission blindly, do you?”

She shook her head. “No, we’ve all had too much of that.” She led them to the holodeck. “Program Thanya-Z-11,” she ordered.

They stepped through the door and were greeted by beeps from Genie. “Hi,” she said to the droid. The holodeck had recreated the internals of a Starfleet shuttle. Paris took the pilot seat. “Brace youself,” she ordered the droid, who rolled to the back, positioned himself on the transporter pad, and clamped down to the floor.“

"We need to fly up to the Star Destroyer, momentarily disable their shields with an ionic torpedo, and beam Genie aboard,” she explained.

Paris nodded, then looked at her. “You plan to use the robot to spy?”

“Precisely. I know how much you like being green, Genie, but you’ll need a new paintjob before you go there.”

The droid produce a sad whitle. Paris flipped through screens on his PADD where mission parameters were described.

“Captain, were you trying to do this _entirely_ by yourself?”

“Yes, why?”

“Because that truly _is_ impossible. No matter how good a pilot you are. The pilot here will need to be _just_ a pilot. Firing the torpedo, operating the transporter–that must be someone else.”

“Alright,” she defered to Paris’s experience and took the copilot seat. “Let’s see. Computer, start simulation.”

Three and a half minutes later, they were all once again sitting in a blank holodeck after getting torn apart by virtual turbolasers.

“And this ship is _less_ powerful than what we’ll be facing?”

“It’s smaller and older, so likely.”

“And unlike the old Star Destroyer, you don’t know exactly how many weapons it has, how they’re positioned, and how powerful they are?”

She nodded again. “That’s one reason I want to send Genie over. To find these things out.”

“Understood. Here’s the crux, Captain–I could train myself for the mission _you_ programmed in, and succeed–with a copilot–pretty quickly. If your program copied the real mission exactly, I’d go for it. But not with so many unknowns.”

“Some vicious circle,” Kim commented. “We need information to get the information.”

Paris said nothing. “We can reduce the margin of error,” he said finally.

“How? Old-time spies?” It’ll take too long.

“I was thinking of using something tougher than the shuttle, but just as maneuverable. The _Nereid_.”

Ferraro blinked. “_Just_ as maneuverable? I didn’t think–”

“The standard _Defiant_ isn’t. But I’ve got a very good chief engineer on the _Nereid_, and we’ve been pushing limits on her for years.”

“You’re volunteering your ship?”

“I just did,” Paris said.

She nodded. “But I’m coming along.”

“Captain!” Kim exclaimed. “Command ordered you to remain in the system?”

“No,” she said. “Command ordered the _Trident_ to remain in the system.”

“The _intention_ was to keep you here, ma'am.”

She smiled. “I know. They won’t like it. But this needs to be done, and I’m going to waste time arguing my case. The _Trident_ is yours, Number One.”

Kim nodded, and they returned to the transporter room. “If you _really_ want to help,” she said, “I have a backup of Genie’s data.” She looked at the droid when he beeped in reply to his name. “There’s a lot of it–I don’t know where the Rebellion got him, but he’s had at least a couple of decades with no memory wipes. But the data isn’t in any format we can easily read–you’ll have to go into a holdeck and talk to his simulation. Not very efficient, but maybe a fresh look will give us something.”

“Unless the enemy shows up to attack Earth, I think I can make time. Good luck, Captain.” He then hugged Paris again.

The two humans and the droid positioned themselves on the transporter pads. “Paris to _Nereid_. Three to beam up.”

* * *

“Entering the Bajoran system.”

“Low power,” Paris ordered. “Passive scan.”

“Not going to work,” Ferraro said. “We never could hide the _Vicksburg_.”

“That Romulan treaty will kill us,” Lieutenant Commander Tolesh declared. “A cloaking device would make this so simple.”

“Unless their sensors can penetrate it. That would be worse.”

“We’re taking risks so those who follow won’t need to,” Paris said. “What do we have?”

“Star Destroyer where DS9 used to be,” the officer at the sensor station reported. “Lots of TIE patrols all over the system, and several fortified installations on Bajor itself.”

“They really mean to stay, then?”

“Yes they do, but I’m pretty certain this wasn’t intended. For now, they’re spreading themselves thin, and securing power as best they can.”

“Let’s disrupt it, then,” Paris said. “Ensign, I will take the helm.”

The junior officer rose from her chair. “Yes, sir.”

“Ferraro to transporter room. Do you have R2-G3?”

“Yes, ma'am. The robot is on the platform.”

“How’re you doing, Genie?”

Short whistle. “Alright. Good luck. Energize the moment you detect a breach in enemy shields.”

“Setting up scan–”

“We’ve been detected!” Tolesh announced. “TIE patrols changed course!”

“Weapons control, arm phasers! Target fighters only, at will. Don’t bother with firing at the Star Destroyer.”

“They’re still quite far off,” Ferraro said. “And TIE fighters don’t–”

Alarms blared and several of the sleek craft popped out right in front of the _Nereid_.

“–have hyperdrives,” Ferraro finished. “They _didn’t_,” she commented.

Paris wasn’t replying as he twisted the _Nereid_ out of the enemy line of fire. Phasers lashed and hit one craft, causing it to veer off, but doing no apparent damage. The others raked their ship with green bolts.

“Shields at eighty-two percent!”

“They _will_ overwhelm us if we waste time in a dogfight,” Ferraro said.

“Tolesh!”

The XO understood. The only way to do this was if Paris could be just the pilot. Ferraro was a bit miffed that he didn’t put her in charge, but it was his ship, and his first officer.

“Short warp to the Star Destroyer!” Tolesh commanded.

Several phaser beams concentrated on a TIE and blew it up. “Yes!”

Paris flew through the cloud of debris and manevered the ship’s prow to face in the right direction. “Engage!” Tolesh ordered.

Space bent around them as the _Nereid_ went past the speed of light. Most of the bridge gave a sight of relief, but Tolesh cut it off. “Stay sharp!” she barked.

“They’ll have tractor beams,” Ferraro warned.

Paris nodded.

The Star Destroyer on the screen was growing rapidly. Then, without warning, the _Nereid_ was struck and tumbled out of control. Several fires emerged around the bridge. The hull groaned as Paris fought to regain maneuverablity.

“Damage report!” Tolesh demanded. She turned to Ferraro. “What happened?”

“They targeted us in warp,” she said. “We weren’t scanning, and at faster than light, couldn’t see the fire until we got hit.”

“More TIEs incoming!”

“Hang on!”

“Warp core is offline!”

“Can we repair it?”

“Not under fire!”

“Arm ionic torpedo!”

Rapid-fire phasers were keeping TIE fighters at bay, and Paris’s manuevers, unpredictable in the moment were making a general spiral nearing the battleship.

“Target acquired!”

“Fire!”

A swirl of color, mostly bright green, flared up on the Star Destroyer’s shields.

“Hit!”

“Transporter is engaging!”

More shaking as TIEs peppered fire on the _Nereid._ “Transport cycle complete!”

“Shields up! Get us out of here!”

Paris pushed the ship past the Star Destroyer’s stern, counting on the fact that the aft section had the least firepower. “Can we go to warp?” Tolesh demanded.

“We need to power down entirely!”

“Not an option! Captain?” Tolesh asked.

“Only one thing to do,” Ferraro said.

“I wasn’t talking to you.”

Paris turned. “She’s right,” he said. “We’ll have to land on Bajor.”

* * *

R2-G3 materialized inside the _Punisher_ and instantly got a proximity alert. Fortunately, Master Ferraro prepared him well for the mission, including adding weapons to some of his appendages. He aimed one and prepared to fire.

“Hey! I’m on your side!” the stranger demanded.

The droid emitted a series of questionable beeps.

“Yes, I understand you,” he said, and the droid processed sufficient data to identify him as a male Cardassian. He chirped another question.

“Same as you, I suppose,” the stranger commented. “The Federation wouldn’t agree to me coming along, so I had to do it underhanded. Programmed the transporter to send me along with you, covertly. But it’s a matter of degree, don’t you think?” He looked around. “Now, I’m not going to bother you. Separation is good tradecraft.”

He handed the droid an isolinear rod. “If you need to contact me,” he said.

Genie wailed a warning. The Cardassian twisted around just in time for a pair of stormtroopers to enter the corridor. They raised their rifles.

Two phaser beams lashed out first, knocking them down. The Cardassian grinned at the droid. “Nice work,” he commented. He looked over the stormtroopers, picked one, stripped off his armor, and put it on. When the head disappeared behind the helmet, he turned to the droid.

“Do I pass?”

Affirmative chirp.

“Excellent.”

Something passed over the droid’s circuits, and he made a decision. He ripped out a data circuit from the second stormtrooper’s helmet, and plugged in. Wiping out the contents, he transfered some information of his into it, and then extended the manipulator to the Cardassian.

“Oh?” the Cardassian took the chip, and put it in a secure pouch on the belt. “What is it?”

Genie told him.

“I see. We’re even, I guess.”

The droid disputed that.

“My name. Hmm.”

R2-G3 chirped out something organics almost always ignored. Whatever the galaxy, that didn’t change.

“Oh, no,” he said. “Torture doesn’t happen in the body. It happens in the mind. You’ve got a mind, my friend. You _can_ be tortured. See to it that you aren’t.”

And with that, the Cardassian departed.


	17. Punisher 4

“Ma'am?”

Ro jerked out of bed, phaser ready. “What happened?”

“Mom?” her son’s voice muttered through sleep.

“Ma'am, a Cardassian came through our lines and insists on speaking with you.”

“What the hell?”

“He refuses to speak to anyone else. We searched him for weapons…”

“Never mind. I’ll see him.”

“Mom?” Dale was fully awake and had his own phaser on his belt.

“Come on. Starfleet is taking its sweet time, so if we look elsewhere for help…”

The Cardassian sat inside a camouflaged tent. He wasn’t tied to his chair, but a heavy table stood between him an the entrance, three armed Bajorans stood behind him, and two others on either side of the flap covering the exit. His hands lay on the table, exposed. Despite the unfriendly surroundings, he was smiling.

Ro focused on the Cardassian. “Who are you,” she demanded.

“My name is Elim Garak,” he said. “Orinoco. Sunflower. Nepotism. Huntress.”

“What nonsense is this?” someone growled from behind. Dale tightened a grip on his phaser.

“Oh, relax,” she said. “Yes, Dale. It’s one of our family codes.”

“You and mother haven’t told me all of them?”

“That’s how codes are supposed to work.”

“Couldn’t she be coerced?”

“Under duress, she would give him an alternate code. If he said it, I would shoot him on the spot.”

“Good to know,” Garak seemed indifferent to being discussed as if he wasn’t there. “But now that it’s established that I _am_ trustworthy, maybe you ought to listen?”

Ro nodded. “I’m listening.”

“Captain Ferraro decided to send her astromech droid over to that ship,” he pointed at the sky. “I hitched a ride without her knowledge.”

“So the _robot_ gave you the code?”

He didn’t answer. “The droid is still there, and in contact with both me and Captain Ferraro. It’s not instant, but it is a channel the First Order doesn’t know to look for. Also,” he reached into his jacket and drew a sealed transparent bag covering the black twenty-centimeter tablet. “I had to take precautions, because these things have locator chips embedded in them. Unlock it at least a hundred meters below ground,” he said. “I’m sure you know such places.”

“What’s on it?”

“Meeting instructions. There isn’t as much unity in the First Order as they want us to think. Apparently, someone wishes to contact you.”

“Me specifically, or just the Resistance?”

“You specifically.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

Ro focused. “What’s your game?”

“Game? Whatever could you mean? Can’t a humble tailor simply work for the liberation of Bajor?”

Dead silence filled the tent. “That,” Lieutenant Firno hissed, “isn’t funny.”

“No joke. After all, if you believe _some_ people, one day the Bajorans and Cardassians will be fellow members of the Federation. I’m just several centuries ahead of my time.”

“Let it be, Lieutenant. Amuse yourself with the war of words if you care, but I’ll make use of you, Garak.” She picked up the enemy datapad. “I’m going into the caves and will see what this is about,” she said. “If I don’t return by morning, you are to do two things. First, alert the cells,” she said, pulling on on a warm coat and covering her head with a special hood that would fool automated facial recognition. “Second, shoot this traitor son of a bitch.” She pointed at Garak.

Then she stepped into the night.

* * *

“Captain on the bridge.”

“Status,” Paris said.

“We can go to warp, and the TIE patrols are back to routine.”

“Contact with the droid?”

“Channel is in operation. We’ve got a lot of data already.”

“Captain Ferraro, are you sure about this.”

“My wife is here. My son is here.”

“Not quite _here_,” Tolesh suggested. “A planet is a big thing.”

“I can make it. I can learn more about exactly what the First Order is doing, and pass it on. That’ll be far more useful than the obsolete stuff here,” she patted her head.

“Harry won’t like this.”

“Commander Kim can handle the _Trident_.”

“That isn’t what I’m talking about.”

“Nevertheless, if I’ve learned something in that war with the Empire, it’s that you don’t force events into plans, you adapt plans to events. We didn’t plan for anything on Bajor. We were forced. But we must adapt.”

“If I order you to come with us, will you?”

“Do it and find out,” Ferraro retorted. Paris laughed.

“Good luck,” he said.

“You too.” She went down the _Nereid_‘s ramp with her survival pack on her back and made some distance before looking back. Paris had returned to the bridge and watched her give them a thumbs up on the viewscreen.

He sat down in the helmsman’s chair rather than the captain’s.

“I seem to be commanding the ship more than you do, sir,” Tolesh commented. “Are you angling for a demotion?”

“The holodeck just isn’t enough,” he said. “Every once in a while, you need to do some real flying.”

“Never saw the appeal, sir.”

“Why do you think I picked you?”

She said nothing, but tapped the comm control on the captain’s chair. “Engineering, power her up. Stand by for liftoff.”

“Standing by.”

“Weapons.”

“Armed and ready.”

“Shields.”

“One hundred percent.”

“Enemy status?”

“No change.”

“Captain Paris,” Tolesh turned to the helm. “Take her up.”

* * *

The contact instructions Garak brought were to drop a high-frequency hydrophone into lake Pag two hours after midnight for the next five nights and listen for fifteen minutes. Yesterday and the day before, Ro only heard fish. She had returned every time exhausted and glowered at the Cardassian spy. She wouldn’t take him up on the offer to go in her place, and was planning _severe_ consequences if all five nights proved frivolous.

“Greetings, Ro Laren.”

The nature of the voice, transmitted through kilometers of water, told Ro nothing. She was recording the conversation, though, so maybe detailed analysis would turn up some clues about the speaker later. She activated the transmitter that would take her speech and play it at high frequency underwater, with no one able to eavesdrop unless they just happened to have a listening device inside the lake. “I am Ro Laren,” she said. “What do you want?”

“Good. No names. Your alias is Riishi, I’m Commenor. I want to aid in victory over the First Order.”

“Why?”

“In case you are not aware, your self-destruct failed to kill Filia Ren, only causing grave injuries. She has vowed personal vengeance against you. The standing order is that you are to be captured alive.”

Ro didn’t reply, and kept listening.

“The massacre of the USS _Tokyo_ and its publicity was also made by the explicit order of Filia Ren. There are those aboard the _Punisher_ who don’t wish such practices to conquer this galaxy. Our transition here is mysterious, but it provides a unique opportunity. She is alone. We can work together against her.”

No matter the inflections, the voice was heavily modulated so that Ro couldn’t tell even the gender, much less the accent.

“Why help us?”

“Like I said, unique opportunity. Filia Ren is alone.”

“My people better not die for nothing.”

A long pause. “I’ll be careful. Do you keep contact with Starfleet?”

“Not me personally,” she evocated. _They don’t need to know that one of the channels is actually a droid aboard_ their* ship. “But yes. You had the poor luck to come to the one place that was prepared to conduct a guerrilla campaign.”

“Makes sense, with the wormhole,” the unknown voice murmured. “Our hyperdrive will make it useless.”

“That has pros and cons,” Ro said. “Mostly cons, as far as I see. Why do you want to know about our contacts with Starfleet?”

“Because our only hope is a coordinated offensive. Starfleet needs to be there at the right time. Your transporters—a marvel, but we took control of most planet stations. You don’t have the capacity to beam up thousands of troops to the _Punisher_, right?”

Ro didn’t reply at first. “No,” she finally admitted. “And if we run over enough stations…”

“Power outage. No, that will have to be Starfleet. On the other hand, the _Punisher_ can slaughter the local ships. I’ll help your people bring the _Punisher_’s shields down.”

Ro didn’t ask how, not yet. “Very well. And Filia—”

“That’s where you come in. Personal revenge—something to distract her. And I hope you have a way to kill her.”

“What’s so special about her?”

There was a snort. “You’ll find out.”

“I want details.” _Thanya might spot something from her experience._

“Alright. Is there anything the Cardassians might want on Bajor?”

“Besides the whole planet?”

“I mean something feasible. Anything that might tempt some Cardassian commander to make a raid.”

Ro raised her eyebrows. “Nothing comes off the top of my head. However, I’m sure we can find something.” _There’s a use for Garak._

“Good. Next contact, same time in four days. Commenor out.”

“Riishi out,” Ro said and pulled the sonic transmitter from the lake. _Good_, she thought. Of course, a coordinated offensive was just common sense, not some brilliant strategy. _But it’s easier if there’s an insider working for us. If they really do, that is._


	18. Punisher 5

“What is it this time, Garak?”

“A prisoner, ma'am,” the Cardassian smiled. Ro’s orders kept the Bajorans from outright attacks, but they made no effort to pretend friendship over the past weeks. Garak took it in stride, and continued to expand and elaborate his argument that he was simply serving the future Federation in which both Cardassia and Bajor would be members—and no one was sure if he did it on orders from superiors, to annoy the traditionalist Bajorans who were reluctant to make what ties with the Federation there were, or because he really believed it—especially since none of these reasons were mutually exclusive.

No Bajoran would accept him as leader, though, so the work he did for the Resistance was either the type that he could do alone, or as part of a large effort where he would commit himself as an ordinary fighter. This was one of the former occasions—early yesterday afternoon, he abruptly left the hideout, claiming he had a vital tipoff. Ro was away, and wasn’t pleased when she returned—but no one else wanted to try stopping him.

The prisoner had her head completely covered by a black mask. Garak whispered something, and the woman knelt—apparently, there was some sort of communicator underneath so that he could be directed. When a number of Bajorans approached, Garak holstered his phaser.

“Should we keep her blinded?” he asked Ro.

“Nah.”

“You can take it off,” Garak declared. The prisoner did just that. “Look, I’m on your side—”

“Unbind her,” Ro commanded. “Now!” She didn’t wait to be obeyed, but instead rushed over, whipped out a knife, and cut her bonds before pulling her up in a kiss. “Thanya,” she whispered. When awareness of audience returned, she glared at Garak. “That’s my wife you captured–”

“She was in a First Order uniform–”

“So were you,” Thanya retorted. “And I told you–”

“So you did,” he agreed. “If everyone who told me they were a Federation spy actually was one, the _Punisher_ is run by Section 31.”

Ro raised her eyebrows and gave a look at Thanya. “He didn’t–”

“Just restrained and blindfolded. Thanks a lot,” she snarked at the Cardassian. “I have no idea how you got out of that base. How’d you end up here anyway?”

“Believe it or not, captain, I came on your ship. I heard about a planned infiltration mission, and I couldn’t believe the Federation didn’t ask me for my services. I took it upon myself to rectify that.”

Thanya couldn’t help but snort. “Is this what you’ve been putting up with, honey?”

Ro laughed herself. “When he’s around. Did you authorize Genie to give him the family codes? Because that’s how he got in with us in the first place.”

Thanya frowned. “Not explicitly. I didn’t forbid it, of course. All the time in that galaxy, and I never got used to the droids, and how they really think. Something must have made it seem like a good idea,” she commented.

“You would have been made eventually,” Garak said.

“Oh, and you wouldn’t?”

“Yes. But I expect to be, so I’m always ready. You wouldn’t be.”

Thanya didn’t see how to argue her way out of this, so she changed the subject. “Is Dale–”

“He’s fine. Sleeping after a night on patrol.”

“You let him–”

“He’s a _teenager_. He’s a _Bajoran_ teenager, raised on stories of heroic Resistance fighters.”

“Half-Bajoran,” Thanya corrected, and smiled at her. “Usually, when a kid does something reckless, a parent blame’s the other’s heritage, not their own.”

“Hmm… well, it’s _your_ old enemy up there, not mine.”

“It’s neither,” Thanya corrected again. “The little time I spent among them–it feels different. I can pass well enough if I imitate Voss Torel, but they don’t work like the old Empire. I’m not sure if it’s better or worse.”

Ro had nothing to say. “Dale would run off to some other Resistance cell if I refused to take him in,” she said. “He’s far better off than I was at his age.”

“Low bar.”

“Can’t argue that. So what’s the plan from Starfleet?”

“None, yet. We still need information. Genie can’t do _everything_.”

“Ah,” Garak commented. “Why don’t we work on just that?”

Both Thanya and Laren stared at him. “What?”

“It will require some of Starfleet’s vaunted negotiation skills. You can spend the night here, and get a fake nose ridge, then we can leave. I’ll keep us away from the First Order, and you will know what offer is acceptable to the Federation better than I.”

“Who are we negotiating with?” Thanya asked. “Who else is here besides us and the First Order?”

“Ferengi,” Laren answered.

“Exactly.”

“What are they doing here?” she asked.

“Seeking profit, of course.”

* * *

“Oh, what is it now?” Laren groaned as she untangled herself from her wife and rubbed her eyes. Thanya murmured something profane.

“Moms?” Dale called. “I think you better see this.”

“I’ll be right there. Sorry, hon,” she told Thanya before strapping on her phaser. “Let’s see.”

A number of her cell sat around a makeshift Dabo table. Lieutenant Firno was being held up by a pair of friends. “Ar-r-re-re-st hi-hi-m,” he stuttered, and tried to point a finger.

“For what?” Garak retorted. “Since when is winning at gambling a crime?”

“For–”

“Silence!” she said. “Winning at Dabo is indeed, not a crime.” She looked over a pile of cash next to the Cardassian. “Dabo isn’t easy to cheat in.”

“My dear Ro,” Garak said. “Don’t you know that this crowd gambles on _everything_? Firno was making a living at it.”

Ro considered. This was indeed a very common hobby in her cell. She let them have it–it was far less likely to harm their cause than overindulgence in drink or sex.

Firno’s speech recovered some lucidity. “What the hell did you do to me?”

“As you see, it’s wearing off,” Garak said, and handed Ro his phaser. It was clearly a Cardassian design, but not a model she knew. “An extra setting?”

“Good eye,” he complimented her.

“Weapons are my thing, you know. What does it do?”

“You’ve seen the effect. It’s milder than a full stun–doesn’t knock someone unconscious, but impairs judgment and motor control. Basically, instant inebriation.”

“Why?”

“The Federation, of course. Newest bioscanners in secure facilities actually require the person submitting a fingerprint or eyescan to be conscious. This is the response in that arms race.”

“And it isn’t top secret?”

“Why, of course it is. My job is to find out secrets.”

“And why exactly did you inebriate him?”

“Lieutenant Firno suggested we gamble on the outcome of the war.”

She turned to Firno. “Did you?”

“Not for us. For the Federation.”

“We are in the Federation.”

“Doesn’t look like it to me,” he gestured. “At least be honest to yourselves. Bajor will never have the same status as Earth, Vulcan–”

“Well, if it’s not the classic mistake,” Garak smiled.

The comment was so out of the blue that everyone fell silent. “I’m not interested in Cardassian riddles,” Firno said.

“It’s natural. There are always people–everywhere–who just go along with whatever happens. Including among Bajorans. I’m not talking about active collaborators,” he said, staving off angry yells. “I’m talking about the apathetic ones. But these types, by definition, are underrepresented in guerilla movements. This place is full of Bajoran patriots, such as Lieutenant Firno.”

“I’m not supposed to be one?” Firno demanded. “That is some–”

Ro blinked several times. “Now this I have to hear. Your entire culture is about service to the state–”

“Patriotism isn’t a compliment among Cardassians.”

She blinked several times. “Now this I have to hear. Your entire culture is about service to the state—”

“Patriotism is a feeling that interferes with objectivity. It’s a source of dumb ideas, like gambling on the outcome of the war you’re fighting.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You’re gambling already _by_ fighting it. Throwing money on the same table distorts things. I had to put a stop to it.” He took the phaser back from Ro and holstered it.

He then met Firno’s eyes. “If we were sitting on a neutral world without stakes in the conflict, I would take your gamble.”

“Really?” Ro was surprised and encouraged. “It doesn’t look too good.”

Garak laughed. “I understand perfectly the frustration people can have with the Federation. Always trying to make friends. It’ll cost them, of course. But not enough to lose to someone _constantly making enemies_.”

* * *

Libby materialized on the transporter pad, and Harry tried to surprise her by a hug from behind. She piroeuttted instantly, though, and shook her head.

“I’m not making a social call, Harry.”

“Sorry. What can I do for the Director of Starfleet Intelligence?”

“I need to speak to your captain.”

“In real time? Not possible.”

“She’s on Bajor, isn’t she?”

“Tom didn’t report it?”

Libby snorted. “What do you think?”

“I would _love_ to read the report and see how he omitted that,” Harry admitted.

“If you like,” she said. “Riker is furious. Fortunately for you, he’s too busy to ream you out himself.”

“Seems like an overreaction. Without us sending her droid there, all we could get from her would be thirty years out of date.”

“_She didn’t need to go herself_. That was pure personal indulgence. And she didn’t think about the converse. Her knowledge about _us_ isn’t obsolete.”

“She’s stubborn. Like some other people I know.”

Libby shook her head. “How are you holding up?”

“Bored out of my mind. Is it possible to get the orders for the _Trident_ to stay here rescinded? Now that the reason for them is invalid? The enemy is doing a lot of scouting.”

“I think it’s all a distraction. If they strike, the logical place is Earth.”

“We are not fighting Vulcans. I’ve got something to show you, though.”

“It’s not another marriage proposal?” she joked.

“No. Have you studied Captain Ferraro’s reports on the other galaxy?”

“Everything I could. What’s this about?”

“The Force.”

She frowned. “You’re taking all that seriously?”

“Captain Ferraro–”

“She saw something unexplained. That doesn’t require mysticism. She’s written about how this involves some sort of microscopic symbiont–one no one here, from any species, has ever detected. We can’t verify it, because she didn’t happen to have the relevant equipment on the _McPherson_.”

“But you’ve read it? About their history, the Jedi, and the Sith?”

“It’s a bit… disjointed.”

“Limited primary sources, as Professor Shim would say. Captain Ferraro’s memory, stories others told her from their biased perspective, and stuff in her droid.”

“Which also might have a biased perspective.”

“Right. Before she left, Captain Ferraro suggested I delve into that more deeply. I think I found something that actually might serve us here and now.”

“I’m all ears,” Libby admitted.

“Computer, fire up program Kim-Beta-33 and play recording 121-17-Z.”

A holographic replica of the astromech droid popped up in front of them. It produced several trills and turned the dome to Libby.“

"R2-G3H, this is Admiral Elizabeth Webber,” he said.

The whistles were pleasing. “Alright,” Harry interrupted. “Play it.”

The droid projected an image of a humanoid alien with a spiked head. “The following is an excerpt recovered by the Jedi from the Sith training manual of Darth Valkyr, estimated time of writing is between 420 and 435 post-Ruusan,” he said.

“Six hundred fifty years ago, give or take,” Harry said. “It’s quite disgusting, Libby,” he warned. “Forward to the relevant parts.”

A new voice, deeper and more musical, flowed from the droid’s speakers. The words were carefully enunciated; this was clearly a rehearsed and prepared recording.

_The Force has no favorite (or unfavorite) species; the Sith Lord should not make biology a consideration when choosing an apprentice. Nevertheless, being a product of life, the Force interacts with biology, and can produce unusual effects under specific circumstances. The Sith Master must be aware of the possibility of such effects as regards to their own person, and must choose how to best employ those effects allowed by the biology of their trainee—as tools, training aids, or weapons._

Libby raised her eyebrows. “Even assuming the Force exists, where is this going?”

Instead of answering, he showed her a padd with an image. “Here’s something we got from the real droid,” he said. “The enemy leader. She calls herself Filia Ren, and the accounts we have match what Captain Ferraro told us when she returned. She’s using the Force.”

“Great,” Libby sighed. “_More_ advantages to the enemy.”

“There’s a lot of descriptions of species-specific Force aspects,” Harry said. “We’re interested in Filia Ren’s species.” He turned to the droid. “Play it.”

The lecturing voice resumed.

_TWI'LEKS. The natives of Ryloth are rarely considered biological exotics, being common throughout the galaxy, and, like the humans, mammalian in origin. Nor are they considered special by schools of the Force; the proportion of Force-sensitives among their population is well within the norm. However, the Twi'lek’s most distinguishing feature—their braintails, or lekku—conceal a peculiar potential—one that is little known because of the rarity of the events required to bring it about, and further protected by cultural taboos._

_Lekku are sensitive both outside and inside—they contain large amounts of nerve endings and are an important element of the Twi'lek hormonal apparatus. There is generally minor asymmetry between the right and left braintail, in terms of length, thickness, and texture, analogous to one hand being dominant in most humanoid species—and like that asymmetry, which lek dominates varies from individual to individual. Both extreme disparity and near-absolute symmetry are rare but known, and some Twi'lek subcultures attach great significance to individuals exhibiting either or both; beauty standards, where they exist, usually favor the symmetrical._

_Removing both lekku is a potentially debilitating injury to a Twi'lek; hormonal supplements are often required following such removal. However, one lek is generally sufficient for proper biochemical functionality, and removing one usually produces no ill effects. Most Twi'lek subcultures frown on the use of prosthetics; nor is it considered polite to ask where the one-lekked Twi'lek lost his or her other braintail._

_However, the bioneural loop that activates when an individual accesses the Force passes through the lekku in Twi'leks—unless both have been removed. Under those circumstances, the body finds an alternative, possibly the same one used by species without lekku—and if it is impaired compared to the normal way, then this is part of the general impairment a Twi'lek suffers from the loss of lekku. However, when only one lek exists, the loop passes through it doubly—and this interacts with other features of Twi'lek biology (other species with lekku do not exhibit this) to produce a very interesting Force effect._

_The Twi'lek’s capabilities related to mental interconnection are shorted out, but rather than simply not being present, they operate on a virtual construct within the Twi'lek’s own mind. This prevents the usage of the mind trick, detection of deception, and telepathic communication—but none of this is noticed through the person’s own senses; the Twi'lek simply tries to mind-trick, detect lies by, or communicate with him- or herself, believing the manipulation is being applied to the other person._

_Extensive training after the loss of a lek will allow a skilled Twi'lek student of the Force to once again perform mental exertions, but they will be weaker, and can only be operated on a conscious level. Under emotional stress, such as the heat of battle, applying these techniques is difficult for even the most skilled minds and strongest wills; the Twi'lek is likely to revert to the natural, nonfunctioning neural loop without noticing that the mental capabilities no longer affect other people until this lack of influence is demonstrated through the person’s behavior._

_When this was first known, a common foolish notion arose that, depending on which lek is removed, either the mental or the physical capabilities (telekinesis, jumping, lightsaber skills) will be shorted out. This has been experimentally proven to be false._

“What the hell is that last supposed to mean?” Libby demanded.

“Someone–possibly the author of this tract–had done some sick experiments on sentient beings,” Harry said.

Libby pushed the revulsion down and thought. Then she looked at Filia Ren’s photograph.

“She only has one lek.”

“We have our Captain’s wife to thank for that,” he replied. “When she set off the self-destruct on her factories.”

“So Ro Laren is a personal enemy?”

Harry nodded. “That’s what we hear. She even ordered her capture alive.”

“Interesting,” Libby said. “Thanks, Harry. We might make use of this.”

* * *

“Fleet incoming.”

“Red Alert. Ma'am,” Captain Vand contacted Filia Ren. “Plan seven-beta?”

“Go ahead,” the reply came.

“Colonel Windrider, go.”

“Yes, sir.”

The ships slowed down to below lightspeed and battle sensors on the _Punisher_‘s bridge lit up. “Not the Federation.”

“They want to talk.”

Vand snorted. “Let’s hear it.”

“This is General Tarok of the Klingon Empire,” a voice came through the speakers. “Your conquest of Bajor was without honor.”

“Windrider here. Ready.”

“Execute.”

The Punisher jumped to hyperspace. However, the computers were set to terminate the jump almost immediately—so the distance was only a few tens of thousands of kilometers. The jump took the Star Destroyer straight through the Klingon fleet—after having launched its entire starfighter contingent, which was left behind. This put the starfighters on one side of the Klingons—and the capital ship on the other.

“Cowards!” General Tarok was shouting over the comm channel, before understanding what happened.

“Fire,” Vand said calmly. Turbolasers struck.

Nearly half of the Birds-of-Prey were destroyed or damaged by the first volley. Vand’s crew triangulated Tarok’s transmission and made sure to concentrate on the flagship to disrupt the enemy control. Once that was done, the fleet no longer operated on a single plan.

The Klingon ships were less powerful than the Star Destroyer and less maneuverable than the TIE fighters and even bombers, and now, the remnants of the armada had split to fight both groups at once. The battle was finished in twenty minutes.

* * *

“Oh, what were they thinking?!”

“They’re Klingons,” Firno announced. “They likely weren’t.”

Ro grunted. “Rescue parties, on the double—get to the crash sites before the First Order.”

“You think there’ll be survivors?” Dale demanded.

“Yes. The fighters’ weapons won’t destroy the ships outright. And we could always use more heavy weapons.”

“Of course,” Garak appeared silently next to her, “it might give some Bajorans respite if the First Order interrogators are busy trying to break Klingons.” He pointedly gazed at Firno.

“Get on it,” Ro snapped. “I need at least one intact warp core.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

She didn’t reply, grabbing her comlink instead. “What is it, Thanya?”

“Rida City is on fire. Got hit by turbolasers—”

“They’re bombing civilians?”

“Negative—just stray bolts. Their ground bases raised shields, but the cities—”

“Dry steppe, high winds… yeah. You’re the hacker. Bajor’s weather control—they would change access codes, but otherwise… Get to Sindar as quickly as possible.”

“On my way.”

“Mom? Are you alright?” Dale looked up.

“Just tired. And angry. They just _wasted_ all those ships and warriors.” She waved her hand. “Go. It’s a defeat, and don’t let anyone convince you otherwise. But we must keep going.”


	19. Punisher 6

The viewscreen on the wall faded, and Admiral Riker looked up at his colleagues. “Your suggestions, ladies and gentlemen. Something else besides ‘overwhelm them with numbers’, please. We just watched the Klingons try that.”

“We’ve known they’re more powerful,” Geordi LaForge said. “We just never thought we’d have to fight them.”

“We can bring in more. Everything we’ve got.”

“That’s a last resort, and it’ll be up to the President.”

“Unfortunately,” said Admiral T'Vara, “we do not have the luxury of time. For now, the enemy only has one capital ship. That will not last. Bajor is being covered with construction yards. They’ll be turning out vessels within months.”

“I’ve been listening to Captain Ferraro, too, Admiral,” Riker rebuked.

“I’ve also been listening to the Ferengi,” T'Vara retorted.

“Ferengi are trading with the First Order?” Riker demanded.

“I’m sure some would like to, but they had a clash of philosophies. Apparently, the First Order thinks big guns dictate low prices. To put it simply—they took the goods and didn’t pay. The Nagus imposed a boycott—not that there’s any real need for it. However,” she explained, “the industrialization is changing Bajor. It can’t feed itself anymore—not with some of the best farmland seized and hundreds of thousands forced into labor in the shipyards. Ferengi smugglers are making profits hand over fist bringing in food and medicine.”

“And the First Order? Do they ignore them?”

“No, Admiral. They most emphatically do not, so the Ferengi who go in take big risks—and charge accordingly. And some of them earn a little more by selling their ships’ sensor logs to Starfleet Intelligence after the fact.”

Geordi’s PADD trilled. He looked at the message, raised his eyebrows, and input his personal code. “Well,” he said after a little while.

“What?” Riker demanded.

“Take a look, sir.” Geordi handed him the PADD.

Riker read. “Is she nuts?”

“She’s the expert. And her wife is–”

“I _do_ trust her. But if there are problems…”

“We aren’t worse off. Besides, look who else signed off on it.”

Riker pulled up the detail. “Director Webber? You know, this plan feels like her. Delay _would_ make it worse.” A plan began to form in his head around the proposal he just read, and with that plan, came orders. “Admiral Kred, 5th, 7th and 11th squadrons will be the spearhead under your overall command. Admiral T'Vara, I need you to talk the Romulans into loaning us a _Kimal_-class troopship.”

“Won’t be easy—”

“We don’t need to crew it. If they’re willing to place it under our command, that’ll be enough.”

“Yes, sir,” the Vulcan acknowledged.

“I’m going to get that authorization from the President.” He sighed. “Send me all the information we got from the Ferengi smugglers. I’ll need everything I have to persuade zir.”

* * *

“Cardassian warships in sector 2.”

“Are the locals just going to attack us one at a time?” Vand sneered. “You know the orders. Destroy them.”

“Torpedo spread heading for us.”

“Shields.”

“Battery A locked on.”

“Fire.”

Turbolaser bolts lashed from _Punisher_‘s bow and hit the Cardassian vessel, simply breaking it in half. But then something jolted the Star Destroyer and it began an accelerating spin.

“Helm! Report!”

“We have thrust, bow-port-ventral.”

“Engineering! What’s happening?”

Cantrell’s voice disgusted from the comm. “They shorted our shields out for a moment and snuck _something_ in—or rather, twenty-three somethings. These things latched on to the hull and fired up warp fields.”

“Why not just build bombs?”

“Our armor is too strong—they’d need to get in hundreds—or a couple bigger ones, easy to destroy.”

“Why aren’t we countering?”

“I tried, sir,” the helmsman informed him. “It’s too much.”

“That’s right,” Cantrell concurred. “Those things are the basis for their FTL engines, with the commensurate power. Firing up the hyperdrive is a bad idea. Fire the main thrusters to slow us down; I’m closing the viewports to prevent disorientation.”

“Cardassian ships descending to the planet.”

“Of course they are,” Vand snarled. “Alert our ground bases, have them scramble fighters.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Cantrell, I want this fixed!”

“It’ll end soon regardless, sir.”

“What?”

“These warp pods have a limited fuel supply.”

“How limited _is_ limited?”

“Probably under an hour.”

“We’re not waiting for an hour. Find something faster.”

“Well…”

“You know a way?”

“Possibly, sir. We shrink our shields and crush the pods between them and the hull.”

“Why didn’t you do this already?”

“I don’t know the consequences; they depend on how much energy the pods will release.”

“Dangerous?”

“I doubt it—energy is energy, and they don’t have enough to harm, as I said. Temporary sensor blindness is almost certain, though—and possibly other systems, like getting hit with an ion blast.” She paused. “Your call, sir.”

“Do it.”

“Power to shields… intensifying… reducing radius. Brace!”

A series of vibrations pulsed through the ship, like a tiny groundquake. Then another… and another… then the vibration intensified and became continuous.

“Sensors lost!”

“Power out on hangar deck!”

“Deck Six, as well.”

“Port thrusters 3 and 4 down!”

The final vibration reverberated and stopped. “Got it,” Cantrell announced over the comm. “Bringing shields into normal configuration.”

“Reversing achieved spin. Will take a while, sir, with just the starboard engines,” the helmsman said.

“How long till we have sensors?”

“Working on it, sir,” Cantrell said. “The viewports will be useful earlier.”

Vand grunted something under his breath and closed the comm to engineering. When, fifteen minutes later, the spin was slow enough to open the viewports, they were greeted with the sight of six Cardassian ships jumping away to warp. That two thirds of the attackers had been wiped out by the fighters from ground bases wasn’t much of a satisfaction.

As soon as some external sensors—and with them, external comms—were restored, an urgent transmission interrupted their work. Filia Ren’s hologram filled the bridge. “Explain yourself, Captain.”

Vand summarized what happened. “What did they do?”

“Took away something very interesting literally out of my hands,” she said quietly. “And a number of prototype vessels we’re building.”

Vand gulped. “I do not fault you,” she assured him. “We are going to punish them—and we can do it very precisely. Those prototypes can be tracked, you know.”

“We are ready, ma'am.”

“That will not be necessary. The _Punisher_ will remain here. I’m coming aboard. Inform Colonel Windrider I want to speak with him.”

* * *

Ro Laren watched the enormous First Order ship in Bajor’s orbit through binoculars as it began to fight, spun up, then stabilized itself.

“This had better work,” she muttered.

Lieutenant Firno approached, anger burning on his face. “She is dead.”

“Vedek Rida?”

“Who else? And the Cardassians took—”

“The Orb of Fortune. We’ll get it back.”

“How do you know? Where’s that Cardassian?”

“Garak? He has the Orb.”

“He was on those ships?” Firno stared at her.

“He arranged for them to come, and told them where Filia Ren would be meeting the Vedek.”

“_Why?_ And why bother? They could have just bombed her and—”

“Killed a bunch of innocents? Wreck the temple with all the sacred relics? Without guarantees? She has survived explosions before, you know.”

“But what does this gain us?”

“Patience,” she said. “The Orb will return to us, and Vedek Rida knew the risk. Filia Ren is angry at losing access to the Orb, and her soldiers share in that because the Cardassians also took the equipment they’re building in _our_ factories and shipyards.” She turned to another Resistance member. “Shaila, did the Cardassians escape?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Firno looked at her in understanding. “You think they’ll leave and retaliate?”

Shaila blinked. “But they’ll be back when they finish pummeling Cardassia into dust—we’ve seen what that ship can do. It’s not like we have a fleet ready to face them.”

Ro didn’t say anything for a while. “Patience,” she finally repeated. “Let’s see if the Klingons’ idea bore fruit.”

* * *

Nash Windrider finished suiting up—everything but the helmet. He met his girlfriend’s eyes. “I love you.”

Arlina kissed him. “Stay safe.”

“Ren arranged this mission personally.”

“Oh?”

“No one else knows, not even Captain Vand.”

“Are you sure you should be telling me, then?”

“I’m not telling you—and that the mission _exists_ is no secret. Plus, the broad idea is something everyone guessed.”

She sat down on her bed and frowned. “No, they haven’t. And neither have I. What’s the priority—retaliation, or recovery?”

Nash didn’t answer directly. “Ren is _really_ angry,” he said. “She talked to me still covered in the blood of that priestess she executed below.” He gulped. “And it was making _me_ angry, just being in her presence.”

“That’s the Force,” Arlina said. “No mentions of any… incentive? Like suggestions of a promotion, a new position if you succeed?”

“No,” Nash admitted. “She doesn’t seem to have changed her ways much, and I haven’t noticed anyone become close to her.” He shrugged. “If Captain Vand’s the apprentice, they can conceal it easily.”

“Alright. No point in dwelling on things out of our control. She kissed him again. "Come back.”

* * *

Ro looked at her PADD. Her son and wife read over her shoulder.

RETALITORY FORCE DEPARTED FOR CARDASSIA 1730 HOURS.

She turned and looked at Shaila. “Confirmation,” she said. “Good work detecting those small ships. It’s time. There will be no better chance,” she growled out.

“I will make them see that,” Thanya assured.


	20. Punisher 7

Commander Koln, formerly first officer of the Bird-of-Prey _Sa'Vand_, ambled over to Ro. “Don’t say it,” she warned.

“What?”

“That it is a good day to die.”

Dale blinked a few times. He helped treat Koln’s burns after the Bajoran guerrillas pulled him from the ship’s wreck, but the enormous warrior, easily twice his size, managed to intimidate him even then. That his own smaller mother not only talked back, but gave orders that were obeyed to a fully recovered Koln seemed to make an impression on the teenager.

“If we fail today, this occupation could last as long as the last one did. We need to be prepared. So if I order a retreat—you retreat. Clear? Now,” she stroked what used to be _Sa'Vand_‘s warp core, “input the destruct code.”

A screen covered in Klingon numerals lit up. Koln entered twelve digits, then tapped a key tat lit up in purple. “It’s ready.”

“Parameters?”

“We can’t do anything but detonation on impact, not with—this.” He gestured at the primitive rocket launcher the core was mounted on and grunted something before inputting the final commands.

She checked her comlink. “Other teams report ready as well.”

“May I have the honor?” Koln asked.

“As you wish.” She looked at her watch. The hour mark ticked.

“Fire.”

“May our crew be avenged,” Koln whispered and smashed his palm on the button.

A stream of flame lit up the surroundings as the rocket flew off beyond the horizon with its payload. The wait wasn’t long—their target was only thirty-five kilometers distant.

The sky lit up with a bright flash. “Open your mouths!” Ro shouted.

The noise was louder than any artillery, and rather than stop, it transformed into ominous rumble that was felt as much as heard.

Ro’s comlink chirped. “Report.”

“Target B destroyed.”

“Target E destroyed.”

“Target D destroyed.”

“Target A destroyed.”

“Target F destroyed.”

Finally, the last team came online. “Negative.”

“What?”

“We launched, nothing happened.”

“Shit. Stay put. Do not give yourselves away. Everyone else—as planned. Let’s go.”

* * *

Alarms went off on the bridge of the _Punisher_. “Contact lost with Ground Base Two.”

“And Three.”

“And… Five, Six, One.”

“Silence this,” Captain Vand barked at the alert signal. “And Base Four?”

“Commander is on the line.”

The face of a young lieutenant appeared. “Sir, we got hit by some sort of rocket, but nothing happened. Our engineers are inspecting the device now. We’ve lost contact with other bases—”

“Raise your fighters. Get the base ready to move—”

“Yes, sir.”

“Orbital images.”

Only bases Two, Three, Four, and Five were currently on the side of Bajor visible from the _Punisher_, but a single glance at the rising mushroom clouds told everything needed about what happened. “How much—”

“Fifty kilotons estimate on each.”

The alert blared again. “What now?”

“Federation ship—ships—by the Emperor, it’s a whole fleet!”

“Shields up.”

All viewports flashed with white-blue, then red sparkles rained outside.

“Not working.”

“Engineering! Fix my shields!”

“Yes, sir,” Lieutenant Commander Cantrell’s voice replied. The ship shook.

“Are they firing—”

“Not yet. Part of the fleet detached and is heading for the planet.”

“To Base Four,” Captain Vand sighed.

“Sir, look at this.”

The rating’s display showed the outside of the ship, near the middle of the port side. And there, attached to the hull, was a large oval cylinder, dark green—but surely not _that_ dark.

“Destroy it.”

“It’s too close for our turbolasers. They can’t target.”

“Launch our bombers.”

“We don’t have any. We’ve sent six squadrons on that mission into Cardassian space, and the rest—”

“Were on the ground,” the captain finished.

“Hull breach!”

“Where?”

“Port, deck eleven.” A screen of security footage appeared. It was of now empty ground vehicle hangar, with an oval hole where the bay door should have been. Black-clad troops with rifles ran out of the hole.

This lasted only a few moments before a red beam went right at them, and the screen went blank.

Captain Vand collapsed. “Where the hell is Filia Ren?”

* * *

The Starfleet lieutenant nodded as the last of the stunned stormtroopers was tied up and dragged out of the way. “Junction is secured,” he reported.

“Is that so?” someone asked—a red-skinned alien woman with one long appendage on her head as she stepped out of the corridor intersection.

The lieutenant felt something constricting around his throat, then got lifted off the ground and, suddenly, flew through the air, towards the woman. A _snap-hiss_ and a flash of red light registered before pain pierced his stomach. The two halves of the body fell to the floor.

The Starfleet team opened fire, but Filia Ren swung her lightsaber and deflected phaser beams back on her attackers. Fueled with rage, she charged at the invaders.

* * *

Ro Laren and her battalion of Bajoran Resistance fighters materialized in a very unfamiliar interior. She blinked. This transporter room had _hundreds_ of pads, and the crew members were ushering her people to get off them and form ranks. Then she realized the crew were Romulans.

“Ro Laren?” the only Starfleet officer present asked.

“I am. The Romulans are with us?”

“Just this ship, I’m afraid. This is subcommander Doran,” she indicated the Romulan standing next to her. “They lent us the _Crimson Veldt_. We’re approaching the _Punisher_ under cloak.”

“Thank you,” she told the Romulan.

Thanya kissed her. “Go,” she insisted. “Subcommander Doran, please contact the _Trident_ and have them beam me over.”

Ro pulled out of the kiss to meet the eyes of her troopers. “Team One!” she shouted. “Let’s go!”

* * *

Filia sliced apart another Starfleet invader. She laughed as pieces of bodies flew apart under her lightsaber. She heard something vague in her comlink about Captain Vand dispatching additional stormtroopers and laughed even more. Unnecessary. She thought about countermanding that once this group has been dealt with.

A warning in the Force made her jump, backflip, kick off the ceiling and land almost fifteen meters away, all before dozens of phaser beams flew through the space she’d just been in.

She looked at the source and the lightsaber spun out of her hand almost of its own accord. Ro Laren stood there, in front of a platoon of Bajorans with rifles. They tried to shoot the lightsaber down, but Filia avoided their beams. They then began shooting at her and the lightsaber at the same time, and the Knight had to summon the weapon back to protect herself.

Deflecting the beams, she rose in fury and grinding her teeth, marched straight at Ro.

“How much of your brain was in that tail?” Ro yelled. “Are you stupider now?”

Furious, she brought down an invisible fist on top of Ro’s head, but one of her companions pushed her out of the way, taking the impact and falling down. Ro shot back, but Filia simply blocked the beam, sending it into enemy ranks.

At each corridor intersection, a few people peeled off to the sides to try to catch her in the crossfire. Filia continued laughing. A few times, she simply dodged the bolts and the Bajorans ended up hitting each other. When they got smart and stopped giving her these opportunities, she broke structural pieces from the ceiling and brought them down on their heads. Ro’s team was dwindling. Finally, she nodded, an the last people with her ran off. Ro also ran. Filia, not needing to block incoming fire anymore, gave chase.

That nearly cost her as she passed another doorway and almost got shot. She deflected the first bolt, but Ro’s beam flew by and hit something behind. When a hissing noise followed, Filia realized the Bajoran fried the door controls.

The Knight of Ren saw they were in an officer’s cabin. Flashes of battle appeared in the transparisteel port.

“I’m going to shoot that window,” Ro said. “They’ll beam me out, but you’ll die.”

Filia considered. While their researchers haven’t yet been able to replicate the teleporter, they knew it existed, and its limitations. Of course, they’d counted on shields… but even without them, in the chaos a clear signal would be needed. “Do it,” she said.

Ro tapped the combadge on her chest. “Ro to Command. Serenity.” She opened fire at the transparisteel port. Just as the window shattered, raising a powerful wind, Filia used the Force to pull Ro’s combadge to her. It fell neatly into her palm.

She got ready to face the interior of a Federation starship with the lightsaber, but only watched the silver sparks engulf and disappear the Bajoran. Then, homing in on the stolen combadge, one after another, four Federation photon torpedoes flew through the broken viewport and detonated.

* * *

A black R2 astromech rolled by the edge of a corridor aboard the _Punisher_, ignored by hurrying crew members surrounding it. It stoped at a computer port, plugged in, and gave a command that activated a special program placed into the central computer weeks before. The program first erased all traces of the droid’s action, and then waited for a set of conditions to be met. The wait wasn’t long. The program gave a series of commands to the systems, and erased itself.

* * *

Another barrage by the Federation made the ship shake. Captain Vand was in a turbolift on the way to find Filia Ren. She wasn’t responding to comms, but things were chaotic enough that that proved nothing. She was a Knight of Ren, wielding the power of the Dark Side of the Force. She could not be dead.

The turbolift stopped. Vand frowned, then jerked his hand away from the overheated wall. The ten-centimeter-wide spot turned red, then white, and finally cracked. A stream of hot plasma poured into the cabin. The captain’s uniform caught flame. So did his hair. By the time damage control received an alert and cut off power to the responsible conduit, it was too late.

* * *

Lieutenant Commander Cantrell entered the bridge still dressed in the working uniform of the engineering crew, protective goggles pulled up on her forehead. “What happened?”

The ensign pointed to several screens. “Filia Ren was there when the enemy torpedoes hit. And Captain Vand had been in turbolift five when…”

Cantrell assessed the damage, but didn’t comment. “Commander Viranie?”

“Was down on Base One.”

Cantrell sighed. The Knights of Ren were outside First Order military hierarchy, their authority granted by Supreme Leader Snoke. But otherwise, the chain of command was clear. They had no flag officers with them, so the Captain had been the supreme authority. After the first officer, command went to heads of departments—first the commander of the starfighter contingent, who was absent… and then, the chief engineer.

Cantrell spent three seconds staring at the two tactical holograms—one displaying the enemy fleet, the other the internal state of the _Punisher_. “Prepare to broadcast throughout the ship, and open a channel to the enemy,” she ordered, then sat behind a console. She watched the required comms activate, and picked up a microphone.

“This is Lieutenant Commander Arlina Cantrell, Chief Engineer of the _Punisher_. I’m assuming command due to absence of all higher-ranked persons. With that authority, I hereby order unconditional and immediate surrender of all First Order forces in the Bajoran system to the United Federation of Planets. All First Order Forces are to cease fire _immediately_. Federation command, I await your reply.”

The bridge crew stared at her. “Ma'am, we can still—”

“—die,” Cantrell cut the protest off. “And I wouldn’t do that,” she turned to a naval trooper, who reached for his blaster. “Don’t add mutiny on top of defeat.”

“The enemy is replying, ma'am,” the comm officer said.

“Put them on.”

“This is Admiral Riker of Starfleet. We accept your surrender.”

Cantrell sighed in relief. “Understood.”

Several Starfleet officers with rifles materialized on the bridge. She stood to greet them. “I’m Lieutenant Commander Cantrell.”

“Commander Vika Shar,” said the blue-skinned woman with stalks on her head in the lead. “I’ve been ordered to assume command of the _Punisher_.”

Cantrell nodded and turned to the helm station. “Are we drifting?”

“Yes, ma'am. We’ve lost engines three through—”

“—can we get back to stable orbit?”

“No, ma'am.”

Commander Shar broke in. “Looks like we’ll have to drag your ship up with tractor beams.”

Cantrell turned to the officer who looked like he was ready to keep fighting. “See, Lieutenant?”

Shar began talking to her superiors while the rest of her team disarmed the bridge crew and disabled all stations except helm and life support. “Commander,” Cantrell turned to the Starfleet officer. “You should know that before your attack, we sent out six squadrons of starfighters and support craft into Cardassian space. They will be returning within the hour.”

“So?”

“I surrendered to minimize bloodshed. That remains my goal. The best way to do that is to get the fighters to land on the _Punisher_, thinking everything is normal, then take them when the pilots get out.”

Vika Shar thought deeply. “If it’s a trap—”

“—it’s a poorly thought out one. You’ve won. That outcome won’t change. The cost—to both sides—still may.”

“Very well. We’ll put you in stable orbit and move our vessels into the wormhole.” She looked at Cantrell warily. “We’re beaming in a bigger crew, beaming out most stormtroopers, and placing drones in the system to sound the alarm if you try anything.”

Cantrell shrugged. “Alright.”

Commander Shar changed her expression. Her antennae twitched. “You really regret it,” she whispered.

“What?”

“That you fought this war.”

“Yes,” Cantrell said “Of course. Most people—”

“That you fought,” Shar said. “Not that you lost.”

She headed off without giving Cantrell a chance to answer.


	21. Punisher 8

Nash Windrider completed his daily exercise routine, Federation prison or not, and wiped the sweat from his forehead. The running he had to do in place, and there was no equipment for pull-ups, but other than that, nothing changed from what he did every morning onboard Star Destroyers and inside Imperial bases. Unfortunately, there would be no opportunity to shower until evening. He prepared to open up one of their datapads—he wanted to really learn the locals’ language rather than rely on their translation equipment.

“You have a visitor, Colonel Windrider,” a computer voice announced.

“Fine,” he grunted.

“Would you like to see her?”

_Her_? You mean I have a choice?“ If he did, that meant it was not an interrogation session—although what the Federation called interrogation hardly deserved the name. He would go into a room with two Starfleet officers for about an hour and a half—one human, and one blue-skinned hairless alien. They tried to get him to open up. He reported his name, rank, and personal number and fell silent. He counted on them getting bored and moving on to torture or drugs, which might get them the information, but would cost them any moral high ground. They hadn’t done that. Instead, they simply sent him back to his cell. This repeated several times over the past few weeks, after which, they provided him the news of the _Punisher_‘s defeat. _Defeat by treason_, he thought.

And there she stood. Arlina Cantrell, supreme traitor. She was dressed in simple civilian clothes, and carried no visible weapons. He wasted no time trying to punch through the force field.

"Hello, Nash,” Arlina said, and smiled at him. She was still very attractive—but no. Rebels are the ones ruled by their emotions.

“You surrendered the ship,” he spat. “Traitor.”

“I did surrender the ship,” she admitted. “I saved thousands of First Order lives.”

“Nonsense. I’ve seen how the Federation behaves. They wouldn’t have massacred us.”

“No. But I’m the engineer. I saw the danger of fighting on. The reactor could have exploded.”

“Keep telling yourself that. You own life was included. What did they offer you?”

“Nothing.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Your freedom is nothing, Arlina? You’re not in a cell like me.”

“Let me clarify. I wasn’t offered anything to surrender. I did so unconditionally. I expected nothing but absence of a massacre. Everything else—”

“You told them about us.”

“They would have learned by translating databases.”

“So what happened to the rest of the crew?”

“Split into three categories. Listen, there’s trouble. The Federation _really_ doesn’t approve of First Order practices. Childhood indoctrination is at the top of their no list, and then there’s torture, disregard for collateral damage—”

“I don’t approve of that, either.”

“Just saying that won’t be of much help.”

He snorted. “Right. Easy to be against the war you’ve lost.” He got curious. “What are the three categories?”

“How they got here. First, those victims of indoctrination. Stormtroopers. TIE pilots, some of the deck crew. The Federation will put them through rehabilitation. For at least the next few years, anyone who could give them orders will be kept away from them.”

“Sensible,” Nash commented.

“Second, there are the laborers conscripted for the dirty work from First Order worlds. They’re eagerly cooperating, and will likely end up on a path to citizenship in the Federation.” Nash could only nod at that.

“Then there are the Imperial and pro-Imperial volunteers. All of the higher-ranking officers are among those, and you are the highest-ranking one that still lives. Like I said—they do not approve of the First Order, and they consider this group dangerous.”

“So what’ll they do?”

“If they have evidence of specific war crimes—try them, but for the rest, life with certain restrictions. Periodic mandatory observation, no right to travel outside the Federation—in general, the Federation will always want to know where you are and who you’re meeting.”

“Great.”

“I don’t want that for you.”

“Why not?”

“Because I love you.”

He stumbled backwards, then looked up to meet her eyes. They were glistening.“

"You love me.”

“Yes.”

“So tell me your secret.”

She smiled. “How do you know I have one?”

“Intuition.”

“And will you tell me yours in return?”

“We’ll see. I asked you first.”

“Very well. Just so you know, I would have told you anyway.”

“Quit stalling, Arlina.”

“I’m not. You see, I don’t fall into any of the categories I described.”

“What do you mean?”

“You never looked at my personnel file?”

“Should I have?”

“No. They are lies. I was born on Mandalore.”

He snaps his eyes open. “What?”

“I left the armor behind.”

“Mandalorians are usually for the Republic.”

She nodded. “I’m no exception.”

“What?”

“I was sent by Mandalorian Military Intelligence to infiltrate the First Order.”

“You’re a spy?!”

“I am.”

He first only managed a wordless snarl. “It was all a lie, then?”

She folds her arms. “I love you.”

“How am I supposed to believe that? You just kriffed me for information!”

“What information? Do you remember me asking anything like that?”

He thought deeply. She relaxed and began pacing back and forth. “Then why?”

“You’ve been watching too many holovids, Nash,” Arlina smiled.

“Spies don’t use sex?”

“You can get information that way—once. A relationship makes things worse, and pretending to be in one you want when you don’t is about as worthless of a spy’s time as anything you can think of. Besides, you were hardly the target.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“We wanted to be warned if the First Order moved against Mandalore or our allies. You didn’t make those decisions. And with Phylia Ren there, getting with you would be risking both our lives.”

“What do you mean? If she could read minds, she’d know—”

“Not in that detail. But she’d definitely feel emotions, and if I was disgusted with you while acting happy to be in your arms, _that_ would set off all sorts of alarms in the Force.”

“What do you know about that? You’re a Jedi, too?”

“No, but we Mandalorians have… a history with them.”

“You mean you’ve fought a lot of wars… and lost.”

She tilted her head. “It does form knowledge.”

“The Federation knows you’re a spy?”

“Of course.”

“How?”

“I told them.”

“And they believed you?”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

“Because any prisoner could claim that and go free like you.”

“They questioned me in the presense of a telepath.”

“And you agreed?”

“No,” she admitted. “I didn’t know she _was_ a telepath. But I would have.”

“Really?”

“They want to know what’s happening in our galaxy. The only other person they know who’s been was out of contact since the Empire fell.”

“Why? It’s not like there’s a way to get back.”

She said nothing. He blinked several times. “You mean… there _is_?”

“_They_ think there is. The First Order is positively _brilliant_ at making enemies. Eventually you’ll make too many to handle.”

He snorted. “Not here.”

“Do you want to see something else besides this cell for the rest of your life?”

“You said it yourself. I’m a criminal under their law.”

“No, you’re in the group that includes criminals.”

“They’re not going to free me, just the same.”

“I got an exception because I’m a Republic citizen. I think they’ll grant you one on the same basis. They’re not eager to start up permanent internment camps.”

He snorted. “Even if they’d have me—which they won’t—do you see a New Republic immigration office around here?”

She smiles. “That won’t work. But there is _one_ way for you to become a Republic citizen—even if no one there will know about it unless we find a way back.”

“What? That makes no sense.”

“There is a time-honored method.” She smiled. “You’d have to marry me.”

* * *

“Come on,” Thanya insisted to her wife. “It will be fine.”

The Bajoran squeezed her hand. “I avoided them for so long. Besides, why aren’t _you_ worried? Your trip home during the war wasn’t exactly approved.”

“I’ve already had this conversation. I was useful, and we won. That brings a lot of forgiveness. And I told you to stop avoiding your former colleagues for as long as I knew you.”

The shuttle door opened and Ro Laren’s self-imposed exile was cut. The two people standing in the doorway blinked as if not believing what they were seeing.

“Ro?”

“Hello, Admiral Riker,” she stammered. “Captain LaForge.”

“I think we can speak without ranks,” Riker insisted. “Or surnames.”

“Alright… Will. You’re not here to see me, anyway.”

“We didn’t want to intrude. Captain,” Geordi nodded at Thanya Ferraro. “While we could reminisce for a long time with your wife—_you_ are on schedule.”

They boarded the shuttle and met another Starfleet officer. “Pleased to meet you,” the Ferengi captain said. The two of them smiled. They had known _of_ Nog, but neither had ever met him. Riker returned to the pilot’s seat. “I have to thank you for what you told the Federation Council.”

She shrugged. “I told the truth. And Commander Kim and Admiral Weber did most of the persuasion.”

“What do you mean?” Ro asked.

“As everyone knows, the _Punisher_ has been undergoing refit at Utopia Planitia. The result will be officially complete tonight. People are not pleased.”

“Huh?” Nog asked.

“It’s too powerful. We sent in most of Starfleet to defeat it, and the death toll didn’t go into hundreds of thousands only because the ill-fated Klingon officer provided the Bajoran resistance with tactical nuclear weapons, and the enemy chain of command put in charge someone unwilling to fight to the death. In other words, luck. Starfleet is about to become twice as powerful as it used to be. And because it’s one ship, there’s nothing that can be done to assuage this. The Klingons and the Romulans got their hands on some enemy tech for helping us… but the bulk is ours, and the only reason there isn’t war yet is the rule of Themistocles.”

“The rule of the what?” Ro asked.

“Ancient Earth history,” Riker said. “When the Athenians debated who should command their fleet, each general thought he himself would be the best choice, but when asked who the second best would be, everyone else agreed on Themistocles.”

“How’s that relevant?” Ro muttered.

“The Klingons, the Romulans, the Cardassians—” Ro shuddred. “—the Breen, the Tholians, the Ferengi, and the Dominion would all like to have it—but all of them would rather have _us_ have it than any of the others. But it’s still precarious. So we’re commissioning it and sending it away. Far away.”

“How far?”

“Back where it came from,” LaForge said.

“You figured it out?” Thanya sputtered.

Geordi smiled. “All we had before were your stories. We got hundreds of functioning drives and a library with all of the theory behind it. To put it simply—warp field theory applies to hyperspace as well as normal space. We’ve installed warp nacelles on the _Punisher_ in the refit… and we can go.” He was grinning. “We can now explore the entire universe!”

Riker was serious. “They got here by accident, but we need to know if it can happen again, what danger the First Order poses, what help, if any, can we get—we can’t be blind. You’re the only one of us who’s been in that galaxy.

"Captain, is Kim ready to take over the _Trident_?”

Nog grimaced. “A bit… inexperienced, isn’t he?”

Thanya defended her first officer. “He can do it.”

“It’s settled then—Kim will be promoted, and you, Captain, will take command of the Star Destroyer.”

“Congrats, darling,” Ro said.

“I can’t go back there by myself,” Thanya said. “I’m not much of a diplomat.”

“That’s not what we had in mind,” Riker said, and turned to Nog. “That ship is big enough to carry some of the smaller Starfleet vessels in its hangars—which it will. You will be in command of the whole task force… Admiral.”

Nog blinked. “I accept, sir.”

“Another reason is flag rank gives you full ambassadorial power on behalf of the Federation. You can make a treaty, and Starfleet command has no power to revoke it—only the Federation Council can do that.”

“I accept, too, then,” Thanya said. “And Ro—”

“I’m going with you. And Admiral,” she grinned at Riker slyly, “It’s not wise to give orders that won’t be obeyed, so don’t even try to bar me.”

“Hey, I wasn’t going to. In fact, I can arrange for a commission—”

“Sorry, no. My Starfleet career was done back when we were still with Picard.”

“I do have a condition,” Thanya said.

“Name it.”

“Our daughter. I want her with us.”

“Lieutenant Tico is already on board. She’s proven quite adept with the new tech.”

“Thank you, Admiral,” Thanya whispered.

Mars dropped down in the viewport and the metal webs of Utopia Planitia greeted them. Normally, the shipyard was mostly empty space, but now, the triangle of the captured First Order behemoth dominated it. Still, the ship had changed in the months it was in Federation hands. Four giant oval tubes—warp nacelles—have been added to the hull in the rear. Instead of inconspicuous black, the ship was painted stark white, with a broad blue stripe circling the hull.

“We’ve installed transporters,” Riker continued, “and replaced most of the space the First Order used for ground troops and their equipment with industrial replicators, supplies, and repair docks for smaller vessels.”

Ro wasn’t listening. She’s been looking at that ship for weeks in orbit around her homeworld, but the feeling of dread simply wasn’t there. The warp nacelles smoothed out the outline, and the color changed produced a different kind of familiarity—that of Starfleet. The original sinister look had been greatly mollified.

Which reminded them. “You’re not still calling her the _Punisher_, are you?” Thanya asked.

“Course not,” Riker said. “Take a look.”

They had approached the ship’s bow and were now heading towards the bridge on the dorsal side. In the very middle, there was a circle of bright blue letters and numbers. _NCC-1701-G. USS ENTERPRISE_.


	22. Interlude

Princess Ruffel Daari, heir to the Kingdom of Duros, finally took a measure of relaxation. Official duties would catch up with her quickly enough, but for now, she and her companion could share the joys of celebration with the countless others on Duro and across the galaxy.

Blair Caruthers led her through the streets. “Where are we going?”

“Not far,” the Republic diplomat assured her. “Do you see it?”

Ruffel glanced where she was pointing. “That’s new,” she said.

“Not really. I thought you would.”

“I never heard of the place called the Captain’s Table,” she said.

“Because you hadn’t been a captain,” Caruthers replied. “Come on.”

They pushed the door open and blinked. The cantina was packed; Ruffel’s hand went to her blaster when she saw the First Order uniforms. “No,” Blair said. “You do not bring war here.”

“I don’t understand.”

“The Captain’s Table is not something you _understand_,” a Bith nearby explained. “It’s beyond time and space.”

“Thanks,” Ruffel said. “That clears it up.”

“On the plus side, your bodyguards can’t follow us in.”

“Because they aren’t captains?”

“Precisely.”

“And that means–?”

“We went here at war’s end to enjoy ourselves. Lots of people seem to have gotten the same idea.”

“But they lost.”

“Believe me, I’ve been where you are. I’ve met Imperial captains, Separatist captains from the Clone Wars, Cardassians from our galaxy… it _is_ disconcerting at first.”

“But you weren’t a captain _immediately_ after the war.”

“No. Romulan ale,” she ordered. “Something you ought to try.”

“They’re not going to attack–” Ruffel pointed at the door.

“They _can’t_. We entered from Duro. They didn’t.”

“Well, well, well,” a new voice echoed. “Another one. I must have done something right.”

Ruffel watched Caruthers turn in amazement to the speaker. “Captain sor Valetta?!”

“Cindy,” sor Valetta said. “We’re all captains here, as you well know. And who’s your friend?”

“Cindy,” Blair said carefully. “Cindy, Princess Ruffel Daari of Duro. Ruffel, Cindy sor Valetta, commander of the USS _Vicksburg_. The first ship I served on.”

“A princess? You must be a captain, too, or you wouldn’t be here.”

“As Blair once pointed out, I’m always a princess. I’ve made my peace with it.”

“Good for you.”

“You were on–” Blair started saying.

“My story has been told,” Cindy interrupted. “People will want to hear yours.”

“I don’t know…” Ruffel considered, and once again glanced at the First Order officers, and then at a couple of people in various uniforms also watching them. Resistance, Republic, Mandalorian… “It might look like I’m taking all the credit.”

“Oh, sithspit,” one of the First Order captains explained. “Princess–Captain–whatever you are–if you’re a coward, admit it and be quiet. Or just tell it. If you lie, there’ll be someone here who knows better. That’s what I like about this place.”

Several people in the hall erupted in applause. “I am no coward,” Ruffel declared. She glared at the First Order captain. “You want my story? In the Kingdom of Duro my father restored after the Galactic Empire fell, military service is compulsory. No exceptions. I was a lieutenant commanding an infantry company when, after you blew up Hosnian Prime, I was called in for a special assignment…”


	23. Enterprise 1

### Part III: Enterprise

#### 1

Lieutenant Ruffel Daari walked into the HQ office she shared with other company commanders in the battalion to find her commanding officer, Major Raak, and an unfamiliar human female in civilian dress. “Sir,” she acknowledged Raak.

“You have a visitor, Lieutenant Daari.”

“Hello, Princess,” the human said. “I’m Lieutenant Colonel Blair Caruthers, acting ambassador to the Kingdom of Duro from the New Republic.”

“Why the rank?” Daari asked. “And _is_ there a New Republic anymore?” Everyone was still processing what happened at Hosnian Prime. Few doubted war with First Order would come, but how soon was a matter of debate.

“Evidence speaks against it,” Caruthers admitted. “I was military attache, but the ambassador and most of her deputies fled back to their homeworlds after the attack. I… am not in a position to do that, so I stayed.”

“What’s this about? I just command an infantry company.”

“Lying to yourself isn’t a good idea, Princess,” Caruthers said. “You command a company, but you’re not here because that’s what the Duros Royal Army needs.”

“I don’t understand.” Ruffel started to feel anger. She liked that everyone at least _had_ to pretend she was no different than any other company commander in the Army.

“I’ve received a signal that requires acting upon, but it’s too risky to head there alone, there aren’t enough people at the embassy, and I can’t wait till the New Republic gets anything together to even reply to me, much less send anything. If they ever do. So I approached your father and convinced him–well, I convinced General Jade, who convinced him–that this may serve Duro’s interest as well. King Gelemod could have assigned anyone for the mission. He specifically asked me to speak with you.”

“Damn,” Ruffel said. “The whole point of me being here is to avoid special treatment.”

“The point of you being here,” Caruthers said, “is to gain perspective that will help you when you become Queen. This mission will certainly serve… if you survive. I won’t pretend the risk is small.”

“And my father has other children,” Ruffel said.

“You can refuse. How long that keeps you safe is anyone’s guess.”

“Not long, I wager. What’s the deal?”

Caruthers shook her head. “Not here. You will have _all_ the details, you’ll know everything I know. That is a promise. You will also be free to abort the mission at any time and return here. However, I’d rather not have it be widely known where we’re going and why.”

Ruffel knew the decision was already made. “I’m in,” she said.

“Thank you, Princess,” Caruthers said. “Major Raak will have the paperwork. You can select up to fifteen troopers to join us, and there’ll be four New Republic military personnel besides myself. Report tomorrow to the corvette _Challenger_.” Caruthers rose. “I’ll see you then, Princess.”

* * *

RDS _Challenger_ was a typical example of the school of military procurement that the Kingdom of Duros rigorously practiced since Gelemod Daar rose high enough in the ranks of the merc fleet then pretentiously calling itself the First Galactic Army to have a say in policy. Survivability at the expense of everything else, simplicity in manufacture at the expense of everything except survivability. The _Challenger_ would have less firepower than a similarly-sized New Republic or First Order ship, but it could operate with a smaller crew, would be able to absorb far more damage, and represented much less labor and resources in its production.

“Captain on deck!” Caruthers announced when Ruffel passed through the hatchway.

Pronouncements like that weren’t part of the Duros tradition. “At ease,” she said. Since there was little time to recruit anyone specially, she’d simply gone to her company, asked for volunteers, and had them draw lots to reduce the total number to fourteen. Then she called a friend from the Academy, and, for the first time in her service, took advantage of her royal status, getting Ensign Caami’s commander to release her for this. Soriw would be her engineering officer.

Caruthers had said she’d bring in four of her people, but Ruffel only saw two humans and a Twi'lek. “Are we missing someone?”

“Oh, Cotta is in the cockpit. He’s our second pilot.”

“Second–?”

Caruthers gestured at herself. “Pilots are the bottleneck for fleet readiness. King Gelemod was quite happy not to have to spare even one, much less two.”

“I have _a little_ training, all officers do,” Ruffel said. “Cotta? That sounds like a–”

The Republic officer nodded. “He’s a Hutt.”

Ruffel was glad humans couldn’t see in the ultraviolet, since she _felt_ the surprise register on her face pigmentation. “Seriously?”

“It’s your ship, captain. Come and see.”

They made their way through the ship, greeting the crew who were familiarizing themselves with their stations. In the cockpit, Ruffel indeed found a Hutt where the pilot would typically be. The chair intended for use by bipedal species had been detached from the floor and secured on the starboard side.

“Warrant officer Cotta, this is Ruffel Daari. She’s our captain.”

“Yes, ma'am,” the Hutt acknowledged as he turned around. He seemed smaller than Hutts that typically appeared on Galactic news, and Ruffel didn’t know if it meant he was an unusual individual, a member of a particular subspecies, or just young. He was reddish brown, getting darker, almost black, towards the tail. The tip of his tail was covered by an equivalent of a utility belt, with holstered tools and weapons. His eyes were behind a pair of large goggles in a metal frame, and from the blinking, she saw they weren’t simple glasses, but contained screens to display an overlay on reality.

“What’s that for?”

“All the instruments, all the instructions on the ship are in Duros,” Caruthers said. “I’m fluent, but the others aren’t. The overlay can just automatically translate everything into Basic–or Huttese.”

Ruffel nodded and sat town in the captain’s chair. “This is Captain Daari.” She was actually a captain by rank, albeit a brevet one for now. “We’re here to serve the Kingdom of Duros and its people. All of us. The _Challenger_ is a Duros ship, commanded by a Duros captain, and is acting under orders from the King. The New Republic members with us are neither mission leaders not advisors. On this ship, they’re our fellow crewmembers, and they serve the Kingdom.

No heroics. Your duty is not to die for the Kingdom, but to make our enemies die for theirs. Captain Daari out.”

“That old cliché, Princess?”

“If I _order_ you to stop calling me Princess, will you?” Ruffel glared at Caruthers.

“I prefer to call things as they are. I said before: you’re not in the Army because it needs another company commander or a corvette captain. You are here to acquire experience that your father thinks will serve you well when you become Queen. Like it or not–you’re a princess. You’re always a princess. If you steal this ship and start smuggling spice in the Outer Rim, you’ll be a runaway princess.”

Instead of responding, Ruffel turned to Cotta. “Put traffic control on the line.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Planetary control, this is RDS _Challenger_. Requesting clearance to depart the system.”

“RDS _Challenger_, we do not have a flight plan on file. What is your cargo and destination?”

“Military mission, code 349-B,” she said, and shook her head. In its long history, Duro had been through fragmented states, planetary unification, a mini-empire, a part of the Republic, a conquest of the Sith Empire, successively a member of the Republic, the CIS, and the Empire, and an independent Kingdom carved out by her father in the aftermath of the Galactic Civil War. And through all that time, the tradition of filing flight plans and what information they should contain remained largely unchanged, despite its uselessness. Once they were in orbit, they could jump to anywhere their navicomputer knew about, and nothing could enforce the destination they declared back on the ground.

“Who is the authorizing officer?”

“General Jade.”

That gave traffic control pause. Ruffel muted their end. “Did I say too much?”

“Jade probably has a dozen missions a day running under her authorization.”

“That’s not it,” Ruffel said. “Jade’s human.”

“_Please_ tell me you’re not one of the idiots who doubts her loyalty to the Kingdom.”

“I’m not… but there are a lot of them. If this controller decides to cause us trouble because he’s one of them…”

“Cotta, start calculating the launch trajectory.”

“The traffic controller might not need to know where we’re going, Colonel, but I do.”

“Right,” Caruthers smiled. “Coruscant.”

“That’s… interesting.”

“Don’t get your hopes up. We’re unlikely to be seeing touristy places. As for the trouble with traffic control…” she looked at her chrono. “We made the request three minutes ago. If the delay lasts two more minutes, we take off unauthorized.”

“What? But–”

“Think, Princess. Civilian patrols have no authority over us. If he wants us to be stopped, he’ll have to go through First Defense Command. What’ll he tell them when they ask why he didn’t simply grant us clearance? What do you think _Jade_ will do to him when she finds out?”

Ruffel produced a long sigh. “Yeah. Cause of termination: behavior detrimental to state security. Not many employers willing to ignore that on your record.”

“RDS _Challenger_, your departure clearance is granted. Stand by to receive coordinates. Your takeoff window opens in eighty seconds and will last three minutes.”

Ruffel tapped the transmission button again. “Acknowledged, control. _Challenger_ out.”

Their pilot began altering the previously calculated route so that they ended in the same place even as they began with the coordinates control gave them.

A few minutes later, they had cleared the planet and were in hyperspace. “You told me I would know everything you do, Colonel. It’s time. Why are we going to Coruscant?”

“Let’s gather the crew,” Caruthers said. When Duros and New Republic troopers assembled in the ship’s galley, she looked them over and began.

“Some of you know my story already.”

The Twi'lek produced a muffled sound. Ruffel turned to her and then back to Caruthers.

“I said you know it. I didn’t say you believe it. I can’t make you do that. If this mission turns up proof–well, I can’t say I’ll be dissatisfied. But that’s not why we’re doing this. Let’s get this out of the way. I’m not from this galaxy.”

She proceeded to recount the travails of her ship, the USS _Vicksburg_. Then she held up a datapad. “Two days ago I picked up a signal. The content is heavily encrypted, but it definitely originated on Starfleet equipment and the metadata is unmistakable. It’s the _Vicksburg_. Why they are on Coruscant, why no one heard from them in thirty years, is a mystery.”

Ruffel frowned. “What does this have to do with Duro?”

“By itself? Nothing. But then there’s this transmission.”

She played a sound-only recording. “Pirates,” Caami said. “Somewhere in the Outer Rim.”

“It’s not the pirates. It’s who they fought. They were my people. I’ve convinced General Jade that establishing relations with them is worthwhile. I’ve no doubt they’ll pick up the same signal I did and come to investigate. So if we hurry, we won’t have to traipse all over the galaxy or send out transmissions to be overheard by the First Order.”

“How do you know it’s them?”

“Their conversation with the pirates. Only Starfleet of the United Federation of Planets takes that much pride in the name _Enterprise_.”

* * *

Phasma knew something wrong as soon as the semblance of consciousness returned to her. She blinked–or rather, she tried to. The vision remained, and it was like nothing she’d ever seen. She was in a sickbay of a First Order facility, that was clear, but all the objects looked different–close enough for recognition, but with an unfamiliar level of detail.

That was it. _Detail_. Like she could focus on everything at once.

“She’s awake,” a voice said. A droid voice, and she also heard it in fine detail, down to the micro-echo within the SR-4’s vocoder chamber. “Where am I?”

Her voice seemed different, and she felt no touch of tongue on her teeth as she spoke. “I will inform General Hux,” the droid said.

Phasma tried to move her limbs. She didn’t know if she succeeded–she felt nothing. Evaluating herself, she realized she had vision, hearing, and smell, but no taste or touch. In fact, she couldn’t feel the existence of any part of her body.

A door slid open and Hux strode in. Phasma could see every wrinkle on his face, every individual strand of hair in his beard. He produced a grin.

“Captain Phasma.”

“General. What is going on?”

“Your body was far too damaged by the impacts and fire and vacuum. Your brain is now suspended in nutrient fluid, installed in a casing with sensors and a vocoder.”

“Why?”

“To fight. You are no longer limited by the frailty of the human body. We can build anything you want, and your brain will command that machine with seamless ease. Any combat droid, any vehicle, any starship. You will be the terror of the galaxy.”

“I didn’t know this was possible.”

“It’s an experimental program,” Hux said.

“Do I have a choice?”

He seemed to consider. “There’s little point in giving you the tools of war and having you use them half-heartedly, though we do have ways to make sure you don’t desert or turn on us. But we’re not going to keep you just for the sake of it. Say you won’t do it, and I will blast that nutrient jar with your brain apart.” He sneered. “As nature intended.”

“NO!” Phasma yelled. “NO! I will do it. On one condition.”

“What, Captain?”

“I get to hunt down the traitor who made me into this. FN-2187.”


	24. Enterprise 2

“This place gives me the creeps,” Halissa, the Twi'lek trooper admitted.

Ruffel privately agreed. They had descended down into the depths of Coruscant’s cityscape, deeper than any reliable account existed. Day and night made no difference, and the air was so stuffed with particulates that even the brightest light disappeared within fifty meters. As soon as they opened the hatch, the smell caused four of their number to retch violently. They had donned breathing masks and carried their own oxygen supply now.

“If my father refused, would you have gone here alone?” she asked Caruthers.

“No. I prefer you to hiring mercs or buying a squad of security droids… but alone…” She raised her blaster rifle and fired. The flash briefly lit a blotchy shape with long limbs, which grunted and sputtered off.

They had had a firefight some two hundred meters back with similar creatures attacking from all sides. No one could tell how many there had been, nor how many they killed–the survivors dragged the bodies away. At least they possessed some learning capacity, and few tried to hinder them anymore. But Ruffel had no doubt that they were constantly being watched.

“Why would anyone put a signal here?”

“Probably to make it difficult to find. Stop.”

“Something wrong?”

“No… but the signal got weaker. Again.”

“Might just be a different material interfering. There’s nothing here.”

“No… I don’t think so. Form a perimeter, please.”

Ruffel didn’t like that, but gave the orders. Caruthers wandered inside the circle of soldiers for a little bit, making smaller and smaller steps. “Right here,” she finally said.

Ruffel exchanged a look with Halissa. “Like I said. Nothing here.”

“Get out the digger droid.”

“Seriously? We’re already on Coruscant’s natural surface.”

“No, we aren’t,” Halissa corrected her.

“It’s not permacrete, or anything like that. Feels like natural rock,” Corporal Nuud said.

“It is and it isn’t,” the Twi'lek said. “It’s formed like natural rock. Natural sedimentary rock, to be precise. Compression of debris over millennia. But the debris itself is not natural. Byproducts of Coruscant’s civilization. Garbage.”

Ruffel was skeptical. “But sedimentary rock is formed underwater.”

“Correct,” Halissa said. “This place was probably flooded until recently, when something caused the water to divert. Recently meaning in the past several thousand years.”

“When was Coruscant built over?”

“That’s not the right question, Colonel,” Halissa said. “All evidence says it was a planet like most others capable of supporting humanoid life at one time.”

“M-Class, we call them in Starfleet. That’s obvious.”

“There is no definite date, it’s a gradual process.” She waved her arm around. “Archaeology is difficult, for obvious reasons. Most hypotheses say more than fifty and less than a hundred thousand years.”

Ruffel brought them back. “Why would this matter?”

“Our little droid can handle a hundred thousand years of deposits,” Caruthers understood. “If we get to real natural rock, we’re talking hundreds of millions, possibly billions.”

The droid had descended some sixty centimeters into the bedrock when Caruthers’ datapad beeped. She frowned. “Strange.”

“What’s wrong?” Ruffel demanded. “Did you lose the signal?”

“No. I’m no geologist, but this sonic reading seems off to me? Halissa, look at this.”

She handed the Twi'lek the screen and took up a position in the circle with her rifle. Halissa squinted at the screen, tapped a few keys, clicked with her mouth several times.“

"OK… the signal is directly below… about ninety centimeters more, and it’s encased in something dense, probably some non-corrosive metal. Makes sense. But according to these readings, there’s about a kilometer long, meter wide infusion of a different rock ending right at that enclosure.”

“Coincidence?”

“Unlikely, though cause and effect can go either way. But that infusion is not dense enough. I don’t know any process by which it can form…”

“Which way is it going?” Ruffel asked.

Halissa pointed back in the direction of their ship.

“What’s the exact density?”

“3.25 grams per cubic centimete–Oh, shit!”

Ruffel whipped our her comlink. “Cotta, take off now! We need to be picked up, but _do not land_!” She turned to the rest of the group. “Run!”

Caruthers, fortunately, didn’t start asking questions. Instead she took off instantly. Why became obvious when the rest picked up pace: humans could normally run faster than Duros or Twi'leks, but Caruthers was nearly twice the age of most of them.

They barely made it; Halissa was the last to be pulled aboard and the ramp began to lift when the rock beneath them ruptured in flame and millions of sharp fragments. The ship tumbled helplessly, hot air poured through the still-open hatch, scalding them and setting fire to a few uniforms. Retardant foam poured from the ceiling, quenching the flames.

_Challenger_ kept spinning and shaking, alarms wailed throughout the corridors. “Caami, I need power!” Caruthers shouted over the intercom. “And Cotta’s wounded!”

Ruffel first headed to engineering, where Caami, sweat pouring over her, fiddled with reactor controls. On her way to the cockpit, she detailed everyone she encountered into damage control.

One of the viewports had lost its transparisteel and was covered by the emergency plate of metal, obstructing the view. Not that there was much to see–rocks, and flame, and flaming rocks that occasionally hit the ship, causing it to shudder. Caruthers watched the scanner and every few seconds, performed a rapid maneuver. Sometimes, a piece of debris comparable in size to the _Challenger_ fell by within a few meters.

Cotta was clutching a stump of his right arm and bleeding from a wound a half meter from the tail tip, where a piece of transparisteel lodged itself. Ruffel pulled out an emergency medkit and centered herself. She’d never treated a Hutt before, nor was Hutt physiology covered in her training.

“I can’t be lucky forever, Caami!” Caruthers shouted. “Where are those shields?!” As if emphasizing, _Challenger_‘s deck suddenly tilted almost forty degrees and the entire hull groaned under stress.

“Glancing impact,” Caruthers said. “Eight hundred-ton shard. This isn’t an X-Wing!”

“Shields up, half-power!” Caami’s voice announced.

Caruthers jerked a lever on the control board and Ruffel dropped a scalpel. She was pushed to the floor and had to struggle breathing; the acceleration nearly tripled her weight.

“Are you crazy?” she shouted at Caruthers. The New Republic officer used the _Challenger_’s shields to ram through a thick cloud of falling debris at nearly two machs, with a couple of kilometers ascent in several seconds. Luckily, the battering hadn’t lasted long.

“Here,” Caruthers said in the way of answer and tilted the ship so one transparisteel window faced downward.

An entire section of the city had collapsed; what used to be an open deep shaft was now a pile of metal and permacrete. It wasn’t settled yet, and the lake of rubble moved and rippled, belching flame and smoke and sparks. Ruffel nodded. A couple of seconds more, and the _Challenger_ would have been buried under it all.

Caami walked in, supported by Corporal Nuud, who was applying a bacta patch to the engineering officer’s scalp. “What happened?”

“You saved us,” Caruthers told Caami. “Shields…” and then, glancing at the instruments, she produced a deep fricative murmur. “Eleven percent? And… wow.”

“Huh? What’s wrong?”

“Wrong?” Caruthers said. “Is this real?” she tapped the comprehensive damage indicator. “We’re still flying, I’ve got control, and shields, and even _weapons_ with _this_. I knew you Duros build them tough, but… wow. Compared to a New Republic or Imperial or Starfleet vessel… wow.”

“Everything is a compromise,” Cotta said.

“I know. You pay in speed and firepower, neither of which would have been much use now.”

“Speed might have,” Ruffel said. “If we got here before whoever laid that trap did.”

“We might also need firepower now,” Nuud told them. “Incoming armed vessels.”

“CSF,” Caruthers told them. “They won’t be happy. I’m not letting them bracket us. How’re you, Cotta?”

“Can’t fly,” the Hutt said, waving the stump. “Other than that… we Hutts are kind of like this ship. Tough.”

“OK. Still… see the medical droid in sickbay, just in case.” She took up the controls again and turned the ship upwards.

Another surprise awaited them in orbit. “Star Destroyer!”

“First Order? Here?” Nuud wondered.

“Not quite,” Caruthers looked ridiculously happy, and didn’t even bother evading the warship. Ruffel could instantly see that it was atypical, from its white paint with large blue symbols, to oval protrusions that made it look more amorphous, organic, less like a giant blade piercing space.

“Open a comm channel,” Caruthers said. “It’s them,” she assured.

“They got a First Order Star Destroyer?”

“Captured, probably. I’m sure they’ll tell us the story.”

The communicator chirped. “Unknown ship, this is the USS _Enterprise_. Please respond.”

“_Enteprise_, this is Blair Caruthers, formerly of the USS _Vicksburg_, Starfleet ID 22313792-H. Requesting permission to dock RDS _Challenger_. We’ve got wounded aboard.”

There was a pause before a new voice intervened. “Permission granted, _Challenger_. Launch bay four, port side.”

“Lieutenant Ferraro?” Caruthers exclaimed, turning the ship to move it to the Star Destroyer’s underbelly.

“Captain Ferraro now. It looks like hell down there.”

“We just came from it. Barely escaped alive. Someone got to the signal first and booby-trapped it.”

There was silence. “We’ll talk later,” Ferraro finally said. “Welcome back, Caruthers.”

* * *

Ruffel had dozed off in the _Enterprise_’s sickbay watching over Caami, Cotta, and others in her crew who’d been injured. Starfleet went out of the way to not make it look like they were prisoners, even if the sheer numbers of the ship made it a polite fiction. The hale crew could stay together, and weren’t relieved of their weapons. But the ship jumped into hyperspace almost the moment _Challenger_ was brought aboard, and no one would tell her where.

Something touched her shoulder and she jerked and thought to reach for her blaster. “Hey,” Caruthers said. “It’s me.”

“Fun reunion?” Ruffel snarked.

“Not that fun. Now Starfleet can reel from Hosnian Prime like the rest of us. Admiral Nog and Captain Ferraro want to talk to us.”

“Why?”

“To try to make sense of what happened on Coruscant, I expect. It doesn’t make sense to me, and I doubt you’re better.”

Ruffel and Caruthers made their way to a conference room where they met a middle-aged dark-haired human woman and an unfamiliar large-eared alien. “Captain Thanya Ferraro,” the human introduced herself. Ruffel recognized the voice. “I command the USS _Enterprise_.”

“Admiral Nog,” the alien extended his hand. “Sorry to keep you waiting, but we wanted to do some additional investigation. You told us you received a Starfleet signal on Coruscant, but when you got there, it set off a mine and collapsed a chunk of the city.”

“Well, I can’t vouch for the Starfleet portion,” Ruffel said. “That was all on her word. But the explosion happened.”

“Caused quite a stir. I’ve ordered the USS _Delta Quadrant_ to stay behind and give emergency assistance as well as discretely find out what happened. They’ll rendezvous with us soon, but we’ve received a report from the science officer. It _was_ a Starfleet signal, and it definitely belonged to the USS _Vicksburg_. Unfortunately, the explosion caused too much damage to determine anything else.”

Ruffel felt there was some omission. “Nothing else? Really?”

Captain Ferraro stirred. “I trust the science officer–”

Nog snorted. “It’s not a big secret that she’s your daughter, Captain.”

“There’s enough rumors that she’s getting through on nepotism already. Sorry, Admiral, but with the way you diverged with your family, you _don’t_ know what that’s like.

"Anyway,” Ferraro turned back to them, “according to the report, pieces of the _Vicksburg_ recovered have been made about sixty thousand years ago. But that’s impossible. The ship arrived here thirty years ago, and it was three years old then.”

“Time travel?” Caruthers postulated.

“Is that a joke?” Ruffel demanded.

“We considered it,” Ferraro admitted. “If it is, it didn’t happen by any known mechanism.”

Ruffel stared. “You. Know. How. To. Time. Travel.”

“We have experience with the phenomenon,” Caruthers admitted. “It’s… discouraged.”

“To put it mildly,” Nog said. “If it was, it happened by a mechanism unknown to us. But that doesn’t square with another thing.”

“That’s speculation,” Thanya said.

“That’s your intuition based on experience,” Nog corrected. “I trust it.”

“What?” Ruffel and Caruthers asked simultaneously.

“The way the trap worked. It was _designed_ for someone like you,” Ferraro said. “Whoever did it took out whatever was identified by the original signal and installed the explosives specifically to do exactly what it did. Particularly, it was designed to make the collapse center on the place most where it was most likely someone looking for the signal would land their ship.”

“Why would that matter?”

“Ideally,” Ferraro continued as if the interruption didn’t happen, “it was meant to destroy whoever looked for the signal, their ship, and any physical evidence of what was buried in one blow. We were tracing the signal ourselves. Someone just looking over the remains would have no idea anything of importance was even there, and there would be nobody living to tell them. It matters because it’s a modus operandi I’ve seen before, and heard more about. The trap looks to be engineered by Voss Torel.”

Caruthers sighed. “Not again.”

“Who’s Voss Torel?”

“An Imperial operative we on the _Vicksburg_ had had the misfortune to run afoul,” Caruthers said.

“And that’s the problem. The two threads contradict each other. Recovered parts of the _Vicksburg_ are sixty thousand years old. There are no records of the _Vicksburg_ since our unfortunate experiment at the end of the war. And at the time, _Torel was aboard_.”

* * *

The security droid awoke Armitage Hux with a gentle sound sent directly into his ear canal. Loud alarms let everyone–including the intruder–know someone was onto them. Whoever was slicing his personal quarters’ security system was going to get a nasty surprise now.

“Put the blaster down.”

The command came from above. Hux lifted his head and saw a middle-aged man dressed in a uniform of a First Order major. He was aiming his own blaster straight at Hux.

“I have demonstrated that I do not intend to kill you, General. Put the blaster down,” the man repeated.

“I will if you get down to the floor.”

The man laughed and flipped as he dropped, landing on his feet. Hux reluctantly kept the promise. “How did you get in?”

“I used to be Sheev’s assassin,” he explained. “Name’s Voss Torel.”

“Really? I’d expect someone like that to help found the First Order.”

“I got… unlucky. Spent years in a New Republic prison before escaping. And then… I wanted to know if the First Order was worthy.”

“And what made you decide it was?”

“Hosnian Prime. Also… I finally had something useful to offer besides my skills.”

“Like what?”

Torel didn’t answer directly at first. “Are you pleased that all your work, all your armies are beholden to some tantrum-throwing Rebel spawn just because he has access to the Force?”

Hux turned crimson. “He is Supreme Leader.”

“And are you pleased to serve him?” Torel repeated. “Do you believe his lies about the girl killing Snoke?”

“Of course I don’t! Lies are tools.”

“So they are. I find that one of limited use. But are you pleased?”

“No.”

“You want to be Supreme Leader yourself.”

“That’s treason,” Hux murmured.

“Only the dumbest never think treasonous thoughts. And under the circumstances, you probably convinced yourself it’s even rational to accept Kylo Ren’s rule. He has the Force, after all.”

Anger was boiling within Hux. Torel was saying so much of what he’s been privately thinking. “During the war, a ship arrived from another galaxy,” Torel lectured. “It was crewed by the most self-righteous bunch I’ve ever met. Of course they joined the Alliance. I was tasked to steal their technology for the Empire. I didn’t succeed before Endor.”

“But you did eventually.”

“Quite recently, in fact. I’ve got it. All blueprints conveniently packed away.” He drew a datacard from his pocket. “Of particular interest is their matter teleporter.”

“That doesn’t exist.”

“It will once we build one. That’s powerful enough on its own, but during my attempts to steal it, I learned somewhat how it works. Under some circumstances, it malfunctions in an interesting way. Put a person through it and when they appear at the destination… all their midiclorians are gone. Oops. No more Force.”

Hux blinked several times, and then moaned out in greed. “Tell me more,” he pleaded.


	25. Enterprise 3

“Have you ever met her?”

“In passing,” Caruthers said. “I was a junior officer in a greatly reduced New Republic fleet, and she was a Senator.”

“I still can’t believe she is the daughter of Darth Vader.”

“I would avoid mentioning it.”

Ruffel inclined her head, not having eyebrows to raise. “I can be diplomatic.”

“That’s reassuring. One princess to another.”

The freighter finished maneuvering and gently descended to the hangar deck. Admiral Nog and Captain Ferraro stepped forward. Ruffel still wasn’t sure what to make of the Federation. Her kingdom, the First Order, the New Republic would have had at least a company of armed troopers on parade under the circumstances. Ferraro had two detachment of eight security troopers each positioned to either side, and both she and Nog carried hand phasers at their belts.

The first to descend down the ramp was a young woman in a gray tunic. Ruffel’s eyes instantly focused on the lightsaber she carried at her side. “A Jedi?”

The woman focused on her for a moment before resuming to warily scan the surroundings. She was followed by two armed men, who also looked at them.

“Greetings on behalf of the United Federation of Planets,” Nog said. “I’m Admiral Nog. Welcome aboard the _Enterprise_.”

“Looks clear,” the older of the two men muttered.

Three more people went down the ramp: a large Wookiee, another young woman in coveralls, and between them… her.“

"Thank you for receiving us,” General Leia Organa replied. “On behalf–”

“Liars!” the newly arrived young woman suddenly shouted and pulled out her blaster. “Don’t trust them!”

Nog and Ferraro reacted instantly by dropping to the deck, rolling off to the side and coming up on their knees with phasers trained on the Resistance party. The heretofore inconspicuous security personnel also became apparent, phaser rifles in hands. The first young woman ignited her lightsaber, the two men raised blasters, and the Wookiee unslung his bowcaster.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Leia demanded. “Spe–”

“This is my ship,” Ferraro declared. “I’ll be asking the questions.”

The one who started the confrontation choked out the words. “How–dare–liar–”

“Rose?” one of the men gently asked her.

“That–woman–” she pointed at Captain Ferraro. “She… looks just like my mother. My–dead–mother. This ship is a First Order lie, all of it.”

“Put your weapons down, everyone,” Leia ordered. Nog nodded, and Starfleet guards also lowered the rifles. “An explanation other than First Order deception is in order, though.”

“Any twin sisters I don’t know about, Captain Ferraro?” Nog joked.

The captain shook her head. “Ferraro was my mother’s maiden name,” Rose whispered.

“And what’s yours?” the captain faced her accuser directly.

“Rose,” she declared. “Rose Tico.”

Ferraro took a deep breath. “This is surreal. Your parents–”

“Hue and Thanya Tico. We–”

“My name is Thanya,” Ferraro said. “And I was married to Hue Tico while the _Vicksburg_ was here. Did you grow up on Hays Minor?”

“I did–wait, how did you know that? You can’t be–”

“I’m not,” she said. “I think I would remember giving birth to a third child.”

“_Third_?” Rose asked. “My older sister–”

“Paige,” Thanya and Rose said together.

“And people think we are strange,” Ruffel muttered.

“My sister is dead,” Rose said. “You can’t know–”

“I’m sorry… Rose. You’ve been hurt enough. But if we’re getting to the bottom of this, we’re going to need to bring in another person.” Ferraro tapped her combadge. “Ferraro to T'Viradi.”

“How may I help?”

“Have Lieutenant Tico report to conference room two onboard _Enterprise_.”

“As you wish, Captain. T'Viradi out.”

“I should have asked this first, but does anyone among you need medical help?” Nog questioned Leia.

“Not urgent. We do need rest, and then we need help in taking the fight to the First Order,” she answered.

“We’ll do our best,” he assured. “But let’s continue in more comfortable surroundings.”

All through their trip through the corridors, Rose didn’t surrender her suspicious stare at Captain Ferraro for a moment. Finally, they reached a small door where they were greeted by another Starfleet officer, one with lieutenant’s pips on a blue collar.

Rose gave one look at her and collapsed.

* * *

Dr. Wiol Faw was the last of the _Enterprise_‘s senior crew to arrive. He sat down next to the unconscious Rose Tico and injected something into her neck. The Resistance specialist’s eyes fluttered, and she looked around in confusion.

“What… what happened?”

“You fainted,” Finn supplied.

“I thought I remember seeing Pae-Pae again…”

“Pae-Pae?” two voices echoed in a mixture of anger and amusement.

Rose turned to them. “Steady,” Dr Faw commanded.

“This is not possible.”

“Since we’re here, it’s obviously possible,” Captain Ferraro lectured. “In fact, I think I have a handle on how.”

“I’d love to know that,” Leia said. “The sisters came to me when their parents made them flee the First Order invasion.”

Thanya sighed. “I take it that Lieutenant Tico, does, in fact, look identical to Rose’s older sister,” she asked. “In the same manner that I look like her mother.”

Rose managed a nod, having trouble holding steady.

“Paige is my daughter,” Ferraro said. “I also have a son back home. I would have known about a second daughter. Rose is correct in one matter. I’m not your mother.”

“But… you said you know how this happened? She–you–her–”

“I’m equally perplexed,” Lieutenant Paige Tico said.

Rose stared again. “You even sound like her… and yet there’s something…”

“Captain Ferraro, you said you have a hypothesis,” Nog said.

“Only that, unfortunately. Proof will only come by if we find the USS _Vicksburg_. Which if I’m right is unlikely.”

“Mirror universe?” Nog suggested.

“From what I read, the differences there would be obvious.”

“Later,” Nog responded to the curious stares, and then turned back to Ferraro. “Well?”

“The Tom Riker effect.”

“Oh,” Blair Caruthers whispered. Ruffel and the Resistance still stared in confusion.

“No technology is perfect. The transporter is a technology. On one known occasion, we had a person beamed up to his starship, but fail to dematerialize on the planet below. So you had two people, identical at the moment. This might have happened to me, as well.”

“And please don’t ask which was the original and which is the copy. That question has neither an objective answer nor practical significance,” Ferraro insisted. “And if I’m right, we have more pressing worries.”

“What, specifically?” Leia asked.

“If I was subject to the Tom Riker effect, it happened when I left Hays Minor with the _Vicksburg_. I haven’t beamed between that time and my return to the Federation.”

“Wait,” Rose said. “Even accepting this duplication, it only explains you. It doesn’t explain her.” She pointed at Lieutenant Tico.

“Yes it does,” Ferraro said. “I was pregnant.”

Paige and Rose looked at each other oddly. “I won’t try to be your mother, and Paige shouldn’t try to be your sister, Rose. That doesn’t mean we can’t be family,” Ferraro said. “Back to the point. That last transport involved two other people. It’s far more likely that the Tom Riker effect captured all three of us than me being singled out. Which meant that these people, whom we all assumed were lost with the _Vicksburg_, also remained here.”

“Who were the two people?”

“Former Jedi Ahsoka Tano,” Ferraro said. “And the prisoner she brought to us. Emperor’s Hand Voss Torel.”

* * *

Rose looked across the hangar, where the Duros crew scuttled about their ship, making repairs. Normally, a vessel like that would have been fascinating–a very different design from the Resistance and First Order hardware she usually dealt with. Currently, she found its capacity for distraction almost nonexistent. Whatever the explanation the Federation provided, she had just seen her mother and sister again.

_No. I haven’t. They aren’t–_

She saw Finn come in with a group of others and rushed to meet him. They kissed. “You won’t believe what happened.”

“Sure I will,” she joked.

He gestured at a tall man who arrived with them. “Rose, this is Captain Cardinal. He trained us as children.”

“In the First Order?” Rose frowned.

“Vi brought me out,” Cardinal said, gesturing at the woman next to him. “I was left for dead by Phasma.”

“She’s gone,” Finn assured.

Leia led the small group to the Duros vessel. “Excuse me? Is Captain Daari aboard?”

“What do you need her for?” the voice of Blair Caruthers echoed from inside _Challenger_.

“New information,” Leia announced. “I don’t like briefing twice, or making someone else do it.”

Something clanked. “I’ll get her,” Caruthers said.

It took several minutes, and the Duros in the pair was blinking rapidly. “This better be worth it,” she groaned.

Several other Duros stopped working and raised their heads at seeing their captain. “Go ahead, you two,” Leia gestured at Vi and Cardinal.

“I’ll make it as short as possible,” Vi said. “We’ve been gathering intelligence for the Resistance and we came across a tidbit both personally relevant to us and, according to General Organa, of interest to the Kingdom of Duro.”

“The _Absolution_,” Cardinal explained. “She’s been damaged in the recent fighting at Poniari.”

“That’s an agri-world,” Captain Daari said. “How did it damage a Star Destroyer?”

“Apparently, Poniari has been a home base for a merc fleet for some time now,” Vi said. “They tried it with just _Absolution_, and then called for backup and destroyed every settlement on the planet. The mercs scattered once those paying them were dead.”

“Obviously such a place doesn’t have the facilities to repair _Absolution_, so they took her in tow and brought it to Viwen.”

“That’s not First Order territory,” Finn said.

“No,” Daari agreed. “It’s in the Lammo Hegemony.” Every Duros reacted instantly, Leia closed her eyes and sighed, but Finn’s face appeared to have the same surprise Rose felt.

“What is the Lammo Hegemony?” she asked.

Several people appeared ready to answer. Caruthers got in first, her face contorted with hatred. “Scum,” she said. “Absolute scum.”


	26. Enterprise 4

“Thank you, Dr. Faw,” Blair Caruthers said. “Is he up?”

The Trill nodded. “You can come in.”

In addition to the obvious cuts by transparisteel shards, she was told Cotta had required a lot of surgery to repair internal injuries caused by gravitational overload. Telling herself that she had to drive the ship at maximum thrust, or they’d all be buried under the rubble on Coruscant helped not at all. She steeled herself.

“Hello, Cotta,” she greeted. “Are you alright?”

“Have to… restrict movement,” he admitted. “You think they’re right, and I’ll recover fully? Doesn’t feel like it.”

“Starfleet medicine is known to be good, even with unfamiliar species. I’m inclined to trust them.” She paused. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t think that with the pieces in you, high G’s would be outright dangerous. You always did claim Hutts are tough. Without that stress, you’d be fully fit by now.”

“And what use would a pilot be if we were trapped in the explosion?” he said. “You’re going somewhere,” he realized.

“I’m not waiting for the Republic to convene a new Senate and declare war on the First Order. Something has come up.”

“_Challenger_ needs a second pilot,” Cotta said.

“Don’t worry about that. Just… get well.”

“And then?”

“Ahhh. The crux of the matter. I have been somewhat disingenuous with you. Why’d you come with me on the mission?”

“You were our superior officer. You gave the orders.”

“It’s quite obvious that I had no way of making those orders enforced. I counted on you, Halissa, and Dozin ignoring that fact for a while. The danger was beyond what I expected, beyond what I had a right to subject you to. It’s expected now. My life is mine to risk. Yours isn’t.”

“But what of the Republic?”

She smiled. “Indeed. We’re about to find out.”

“I don’t understand.”

“There are objective things; things that remain as they are regardless of any people believing in them or even knowing about them. There are subjective things; things that exist in the mind of one person and go away if they stop believing in them. And then there are things whose existence depends on the number of people that believe in them. Most of the things people care about are like that. Love. Beauty. Justice. Money. Power. The Republic exists to the extent that you and I and a myriad of other people in the galaxy believe in it. That’s always the case, but the lack of visible power behind it makes it more obvious. And despite all _its_ visible power, the First Order is also one of those things.”

She rose. “Good luck, Cotta. I still believe in the Republic. I think you do too, but that’s not for me to answer. And I hope there are enough others to keep it real.”

* * *

“What is it, Princess?”

“Can we trust them?” Ruffel pointed up the corridor towards Finn, Rose, and Captain Cardinal, who’d join them on this mission. “From what I hear, two used to work for the First Order.”

“That’s a better reason _to_ trust them. They’re traitors, and the First Order isn’t merciful.”

“It’s also an easy way to slip in a spy.”

“One: you can’t suspect everybody of everything; it just diffuses focus. Two: the thing about starships is that once in space, even the worst of enemies aboard get a common interest. Three, most importantly: we’re not going to the Kingdom. Only our mission is at stake for now.”

“Not very reassuring.”

“You’re my captain. Starfleet officers don’t lie to their captains. Especially lies of the sort the captain wants to hear.”

“Really? Never?”

“We’re not supposed to. Is everything alright?”

“I contacted General Jade. She approved.”

Caruthers considered for a long time. “Was that a mistake?” Ruffel asked.

“Not for me to answer. You’re an officer in the Royal Duros Army, and Jade is _your_ superior.”

“But you would have advised against it.”

“I don’t know,” she said. “What did Jade say?”

“Approved, as I said. Then… ‘what you don’t know, you can’t reveal’.”

“She’s right about that. Alright. Everyone aboard?”

“Dozin–”

“Won’t be coming. I’m not upset. I prefer not to command people for whom my orders mean nothing unless they’re backed up with force.”

“Well, then we’re all ready.”

“Not quite.” Caruthers strode forward to the cockpit, looked around, and tapped the ship’s intercom. “Attention, this is New Republic Lieutenant Colonel Blair Caruthers, XO of RDS _Challenger_. This is a briefing about our mission, so pay attention. We’re going to the Lammo Hegemony.”

Rose and Finn gave wide-eyed stares. Cardinal put on a frown. the Duros expressed a spectrum of dislikes.

“Lammo Hegemony was founded by an Imperial admiral turned warlord in the aftermath of the Civil War. His name was, in fact, Admiral Lammo. They had gone through a series of leaders, each one taking on the name ‘Admiral Lammo’ upon ascension. Some of them have been children and grandchildren of the original Lammo, but not all. The fate of the previous leader was usually gruesome death.

"Lammo has fought three big wars and numerous skirmishes with the Kingdom of Duro, founded at about the same time by the father of our captain here, King Gelemod Daar. When the Lammos lost a planet, they killed it before withdrawing their forces. I’m not talking about taking what’s valuable and blowing up facilities. They left the planet worse off than it would have been as a wilderness. Wrecked infrastructure, burned crops, poisoned water, people sold into slavery en mass. None of the systems in the Kingdom that were once part of the Hegemony are of any use beyond extraction of base metal, am I correct about that?”

Caami, the chief engineer, nodded. “I’ve been to some of those systems. It’s hard enough keeping pollutants at bay on the major worlds of the Kingdom. Reclaiming these… maybe in a few centuries.”

“But that isn’t the greatest crime,” Caruthers continued. “Many civilizations had periods of mass ignorance in their history, yours and mine included. From lack of resources, from ideological blinders, from prioritizing something other than education. But Lammo is the only one I know, now or in history, that seems to be _deliberately uneducating_ its people. And it’s not stratification. Degradation among their elites is just as strong–not as noticeable, since there’s further for them to fall. But it’ll get there.

"Just two weeks ago, I’ve talked to a shipful of refugees from there brought in after their freighter was disabled in deep space and found by a Duros military patrol. They wouldn’t talk to anyone on base, and attacked anyone who approached. Colonel Noodi asked me to help when she had to fill the barracks with knockout gas for the third time. Do you know what I found out?”

She looked at the Duros in the crew, but no one seemed inclined to speak. “Not even you, Princess? Very well. They were afraid the Duros were going to eat them.”

That produced two dozen open mouths. “What the hell?” Caami demanded.

“Colonel Noodi needed records of my conversations to be convinced, too. I _will_ discipline whoever jokes about them not tasting good. It’s not funny. It’s a tragedy, with the consequences spilling beyond the Lammo Hegemony now. And we’re about to witness that tragedy up close.”

“But… why?” Rose asked.

“Lammo wasn’t the brightest from the start,” Caruthers said. “The initial impetus was likely from the First Order or its predecessors, and once started, such things tend to feed on themselves. As to why… consider what it cost _you_. How much less flexible the Kingdom is, military, with an unstable enemy on the border. For the fight against the First Order, a fleet or division arrayed against Lammo might as well not exist.”

“We’re not at war with the First Order,” someone protested.

“Yet,” Ruffel retorted. “Come on, Iroom. Be real.”

“They left us alone.”

“Consuming the New Republic will take time, even in the state we were in. Your turn might not even be next. But it’ll come.”

“So what are we to be doing _in_ the Lammo Hegemony?” Caami inquired.

“Captain Cardinal?” Caruthers prompted.

“I have been captain of the _Absolution_. I know her. I know her crew. I know her droids. We’re going to steal that ship and turn it against the First Order. Doing it in a Lammo shipyard is less riskier.”

“Not to mention raising suspicions between Lammo and the First Order. Have that tradeoff work for us,” Caami understood.

“Exactly. Which reminds me, Caruthers. We need to change our transponder. Have us impersonate a Resistance vessel.”

“Tico?”

“On it. What should be we name her?”

“Keep _Challenger_,” Ruffel said. “Just don’t have us identify as Duros. We do sell these ships, so the design alone isn’t a certainty.”

“Yes, ma'am.” Rose and Caami left for the engineering section and Ruffel sat down in the captain’s chair. “Calculation?”

“Starting up,” Cardinal announced.

“May the Force be with us,” Finn whispered.

Caruthers flipped the comm. “_Enterprise_, this is _Challenger_. Requesting opening hangar and departure clearance.”

“One moment, _Challenger_, the voice of Nog came through. "General Organa requested you take on another person.”

Ruffel frowned. “We have more crew than this ship was made for,” she said.

“The room isn’t the issue. Organa thinks she has a good reason. It’s your call, captain.”

“Permission granted, Admiral. How long–”

“Right now, I think,” Caruthers pointed to a figure outside the viewport, heading for their ship.

The others peered through and then Finn grinned in astonishment. “Rey?”


	27. Enterprise 5

“Lock complete.”

“I can’t believe it worked,” Vie whispered.

“You didn’t think I could do it?” Cardinal demanded.

“It’s not you. I didn’t think your access codes would still be valid.”

“They aren’t,” Cardinal said. “But the droids are the same.”

“Last chance to run,” Captain Daari said. “Go or not?”

“We go,” Cardinal said. FN-2–sorry, Finn and Rey are going out first and will talk to the cadets.“

They got ready. "Opening airlock… now.”

The hatch slid open to reveal a dozen First Order stormtrooper helmets. “HOLD! YOUR! FIRE!” Cardinal shouted.

“Captain… Captain Cardinal?” someone asked.

“That’s correct, SG-2398,” Cardinal replied, and headed straight down.

“We thought you were dead.”

“It was close,” he admitted. “How are things here?”

“Bad, sir. _Everyone_‘s been questioned, some just disappeared. Squads are being split up…”

“Don’t have to say more. Where did the Seebies take shop?”

He was interrupted before getting an answer. “Wait–FN-2187?”

Finn stepped forward. “Yeah, it’s me.”

“Old buddies?” Rey teased.

“No,” the questioner said. “But OL-2204 talked a lot about you… before they took him.”

Finn jerked. “Damn…”

“Hang on…,” another cadet murmured suspiciously. “But you are… you are…” She was pointing at Rey and unable to gather words.

“Rey,” the Jedi said.

“But… they say you killed the Supreme Leader. They call you a monster!”

A series of giggles came from the _Challenger_’s interior. “Monster,” Rose pointed at her, barely holding in the laugh. Finn and Vi managed to limit themselves to smiling.

“Who’s _they_?” Cardinal demanded.

“Propaganda holos. More now than when you were around, sir.”

“Don’t believe everything,” Rey replied. “Seebies?” she asked Cardinal.

“First Order Security Bureau,” Vi explained. “Good question. Where are they?”

“Deck 9, section 13,” a cadet answered. “But they also have officers stationed at every major location…”

“Here’s the plan,” Cardinal announced. “You arm yourselves just in case and get word out that I’m back. Company E and F, you can come with me.”

“Sixteen and seventeen year-olds,” Finn explained to Rey the singling out.

“Two squads from the _Challenger_,” Cardinal continued. “Squad One, help Vi escort Rose to Engineering. Squad two, with Finn to take out the Seebie HQ. That one is certain to get hot, so Rey, you’re going along. I’m heading to the bridge.”

“Wait… sir?” the cadet who identified Rey spoke up. “Are we doing a mutiny?”

“_You_ are doing a mutiny,” Cardinal corrected. “_I_ am committing piracy.”

“But that’s against everything the First Order stands for!”

“No, MR-2986. It’s against everything the First Order _should_ stand for. I’ve learned the difference in a very hard way, and as always, I’m passing that knowledge to you.”

* * *

“Section 13,” Finn said. “They’re right below us.”

Rey paced around. “The design is inherited from Imperial-class, right?”

“Mostly,” he replied. “Why?”

“Because if they do, then there’s a support beam right here,” she tapped a section of the wall.

“How’d you know that?” MR-2986 inquired.

“Scavenger on Jakku. I cut through the beam, and a portion of the deck collapses right on top of the Seebies.”

Finn nodded, but raised his hand when she drew the lightsaber. “One moment.” He activated the comlink. “Captain, we’re in position.”

“Acknowledged, Finn. Vi, status.”

“Approaching engineering. Disguises are working so far.”

“Go, both of you. Good luck.”

“Stand back,” Rey said. The blue blade emerged from the shaft in her hand. She closed her eyes, focused and swung into the wall.

_CREAK_. Rey leapt backward to avoid getting caught in the debris that rained down, but as soon as the opening in the deck was large enough, she dropped into it, sliding down. The Security Bureau troopers below opened fire and the lightsaber started to dance.

“With me!” Finn shouted and fire his rifle.

Alarms blared. “Intruder alert! Intruder alert!”

“Surrender!”

“Jedi abomination!” someone yelled.

“Grenade!” Finn warned.

Rey raised her hand and hurled the projectile back at its source with the Force. The detonation roared through the corridors.

“Surrender!” Finn repeated the demand.

A few troopers gave a momentary pause before blaster bolts hit them in the backs and they fell.

“Son of–get them!”

Rey shut down the lightsaber and moved off to the side, letting Finn lead the frontal attack. Combining leaping and climbing, she got back up to deck 8, ran across the compartment, and plunged the lightsaber into the floor.

“Freeze!”

Rey pulled the lighsaber back and deflected the security troopers’ bolts. “That’s right!” she yelled. “I’m the monster who killed Snoke! Drop your weapons and run!”

She focused into the Force at that last command, and the attackers obeyed. Focusing once again on the deck, she finished cutting the circular hole. The cutout dropped; it would have hit the Seebie officer, but he was a quick dodger. He couldn’t however, dodge that and Rey’s kick. In moments, he was weaponless, on his back, and had a lightsaber at his throat.

“Surrendering would hurt less,” she declared at his whimper.

“This was the one who was shooting the others in the back?” Finn demanded, coming up with a mixed group of stormtrooper cadets, disarmed Seebies, and Duros troopers.

Several of the prisoners nodded. The officer laughed.

“Reinforcements are on their way. You’ll all be killed.”

Finn raised his gun and fired. The bolt landed square into the officer’s forehead.

“Get into the network and disable their surveillance mechanisms,” he ordered.

“Sir,” one of the prisoners raised his hand, “Captain Rukko here was the second in command. Major Schwerm is somewhere else.”

“Finn to Cardinal. Seebie HQ is under control.”

“Good work. Bridge and Engineering are also ours.”

“We’ve been locked out, though,” Rose’s voice informed them.

“Find the chief engineer and interrogate him.”

“We don’t need to find him, but as for interrogation–”

“Understood. We need access to the engineering mainframe.”

“On it,” Rose said.

The _Absolution_‘s intercom came online. “Attention to all personnel aboard _Absolution_. This is Captain Cardinal. I have once more taken command of this vessel. The First Order leadership has betrayed the ideals it purports to espouse, and has lost any claim to our loyalty. From now on, this will be a free ship whose crew will be here by choice, and be free to choose our allies and our enemies. I intend to join the Resistance, but I will not force anyone to come along. If you wish to be dropped off on a neutral planet, that arrangement will be made. Cardinal out.”

“Take us out of the shipyard,” Cardinal ordered.

“The Lammo controllers are hailing us.”

“Ignore them.”

The intercom flared up again. “This is Major Yoli Schwerm of the First Order Security Bureau,” the woman’s voice came through. “_Former_ Captain Cardinal has been convicted of treason and sentenced to death. Any member of the First Order has the authority to carry out that sentence.”

“In case you haven’t noticed, Major Schwerm, you’re not in a position to make threats.”

“I’ve alerted Fleet Command. We’ll have reinforcements. My loyal men will make it hell for you traitors to operate _Absolution_, and we’ll last long enough for help. Hyperdrive is offline. You won’t run before they get here.”

“She’s right, damn it,” Rose said. “I’m getting the hyperdrive online, but cold-start means at least a half hour.”

“Launch program VIXEN 5 on the mainframe console.”

“It’s just an input field,” Rose sounded confused.

“Code input. R-F-G-7-TH-N-Y-3-Q-C-I-0.”

“Alright… it’s a countdown. Fifteen minutes.”

“You hear that, Schwerm? That’s a countdown to deliberate reactor overload. And when the _Absolution_ was brought into the shipyard, the escape pods were taken off. Oops.

"I will input the cancellation code when I have Schwerm on the bridge. I don’t care if she’s dead or alive. Cardinal out.”

The _Absolution_ torn the bracers holding her in the shipyard and rose away from Viwen.

* * *

“Please… don’t shoot.”

Rey stepped forward, lightsaber in hand. “We won’t if you won’t.”

It was nearly a company of Security Bureau troopers. The two in the lead were carrying a body. Finn looked them over carefully and ordered the squad they arrived with, along with two new ones who joined them, to flank them.

“This is Major Schwerm,” one of the leading troopers said.

“We knocked her out,” the other said helpfully.

With a glance over the previously captured Seebies, Finn got a confirmation. “Let’s go then,” he said. “MR-2986, you’re in charge here. Time’s running out.”

Cardinal was delighted when they arrived. Major Schwerm far less so, as she was restrained.

“Cardinal to Tico,” he said.

“There’s two minutes left!” Rose shouted.

“EXIT.”

“What?”

“E-X-I-T. EXIT. Input that.”

Beeps came through the comlink.

“What the hell?”

Schwerm recovered enough to spit in anger. “We don’t have a self-destruct mechanism with a countdown, you twerp!”

“We don’t?” the Seebies who carried her asked.

“We don’t?” Rose exclaimed on the other end of the comlink.

“We don’t?” both Rey and Vie demanded.

“We don’t,” Cardinal and Finn confirmed simultaneously.

“You knew?” Rose asked Finn.

“There’s no way Cardinal wouldn’t know, so I figured it was a bluff.”

“If such a system existed,” Cardinal said. “The first thing an enemy will try is slice the computer to get at it. You _can_ overload the reactor, but it has to be done by tinkering with several control stations and any time of destruction will be only an estimate. Nothing like this down to the second control is possible without pre-planting detonators in critical systems. If your 'loyal men’ were engineering crew, this wouldn’t have worked, Major.”

“But I told them!”

“And they did not believe you. That says everything about your leadership. Take her to the brig. Raise shields. I believe her, at least on the subject of First Order reinforcements. How’s the hyperdrive, Tico?”

“Coming online. Another ten minutes.”

“Too late,” Captain Daari interrupted the conversation.

In the viewport, five _Resurgent_-class Star Destroyers emerged from hyperspace.

“I’m taking _Challenger_ out.”

“Understood,” Cardinal said. “This is the captain,” he announced. “We are all traitors in the eyes of the First Order. There will be no mercy. Battlestations!”

“Five to one…” someone muttered.

“We don’t have to beat them. Just last long enough to jump. And change IFF parameters,” he ordered the officer at the station. “First Order, Hostile. Resistance and Duros, Friendly.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Another ship behind us! We’re being boxed in!”

“Don’t worry,” Daari informed them. “It’s the _Enterprise_.”

“Enemy launching fighters.”

“_Enterprise_ to _Absolution_,” Nog signaled. “What’s your status.”

“Cardinal here,” the captain said. “We have the ship, and can fight her… not at peak efficiency.”

“Understood. _Delta Quadrant_, _Nereid_, _Unbroken_, deploy. Resistance fighters, stand by.”

“Standing by, Admiral,” the voice of Poe Dameron answered. May the Force be with us.“


	28. Enterprise 6

“You’re gambling, Admiral,” Thanya Ferraro said. “The _Defiants_ don’t have a hyperdrive installed. If we have to run–”

“All war is gambling,” Nog replied. “Are we ready?”

“Ferraro to Commander Doron,” she said. “Report.”

“Security teams standing by.”

“Ferraro to Lieutenant Orim. Report.”

“Scanners up and linked in.”

“Ready, sir.”

“Nog to fleet. Execute. Dameron, you are clear.”

Resistance fighters dropped out of the _Enterprise_‘s bays and started falling into formation.

“TIEs incoming!”

“Fire.”

The _Delta Quadrant_ was a classic Starfleet design, upgraded for the modern era. It positioned itself directly dorsally from _Enterprise_. The _Nereid_ and _Unbroken_, old _Defiant_-class vessels, took place to port and starboard, so the four ships formed a square. Then all four released bolts of energy towards the TIE Fighter swarm.

Capital ship beams, whether phaser or turbolaser, couldn’t be aimed well enough to hit starfighter-sized targets. But if they did hit, the small craft would almost certainly be destroyed. Pilots reacted sensibly, avoiding the beams. The four ships’ fields of fire herded the fighters into a relatively small region.

A console chirped. “In range.”

“Orim, go.”

“Energize.”

And then most of the fighters ahead ceased maneuvering and responding to the surroundings. Others, unprepared for the rapid change, had to dodge their comrades, and weren’t always succeeding.

“TIE pilots beamed aboard,” Orim announced.

“Commander Doron?”

“We have them. Alright, people,” he ordered. “No time for the usual, not with this many. Stun everyone, strip weapons and equipment, and put them in the detention area.”

“What did you do?” Poe Dameron exclaimed in astonishment.

“Took advantage of their bad design,” Nog said. “Attack the Star Destroyer further to our port.”

“Yes, sir. Their fighter cover is down. Form up behind _Nereid_. Accelerate to attack speed. Arm torpedoes.”

_Enterprise_, _Absolution_, and _Challenger_ all focused fire on the same ship. _Delta Quadrand_ and _Unbroken_, meanwhile, moved to disrupt such concentrated effort by the other four, firing torpedoes and phasers at sensor banks and shield projectors. The standard design meant knowing exactly where to aim from practice against _Enterprise_.

The torpedo volley from the Resistance finished off the enemy ship. Flames erupted all across her hull, engines gave the last flicker and went dark, and the hull began falling towards the planet.

“Regroup,” Nog ordered. “Target the–”

“Admiral, we’ve sustained damage!” Cardinal shouted. “If our shields were infinite, we could destroy them one by one, but they aren’t!”

“Then perhaps I could help.”

“New ship–sir, it’s a whole new fleet.”

“This is General Jade aboard RDS _Covenant_,” the same crisp female voice announced. “The Kindom of Duro is taking control of the Viwen system. Resistance will be considered an act of war.”

The First Order flotilla turned their cannons and fired. The Duros ships were less than a third their length and much thinner, but Jade had brought twenty-five of them. Most concentrated their fire on the closest Star Destroyer, but a group of eight peeled off and moved higher above the ecliptic, spreading out and positioning themselves in a ring, equidistant from each other.

“What are they doing?” someone asked.

“Not sure,” Nog said.

The axis of the ring was now aligned with the three still-unharmed First Order ships. Powerful green beams emerged from the bows of the Duros cruisers, forming a cone of light.

Then Thanya understood. “That’s how the Death Star worked!”

The beams met at a point, paused, and colluded in a single shaft of light along the axis, piercing all three ships. The first was cut in half, the second had its bridge sheared off. The last, faring the best of all, only lost about two hundred meters of the frontmost section. Fires erupted into space on all three. The least-damaged ship then vanished into hyperspace, leaving its prow floating free.

The Duros shut down their ring. “I didn’t even know that was possible,” Cardinal said over the comm.

The bridge door opened and admitted Leia Organa. “I want to speak to that Duros commander. Now.”

“Transmit,” Nog said. “This is Admiral Nog of the United Federation of Planets. Thank you for the assistance, General Jade.”

“How… how could you…,” Leia barely controlled her rage. “That–”

The _Enterprise_‘s bridge projected a blue-white hologram of a human woman about Leia’s age, hair in a tight bun and dressed in a Duros military uniform. “General Organa,” Jade said. “I expected to have this conversation.”

“What?”

“The Lammo Hegemony has been a disguised First Order protectorate for a long time,” she explained. “Every war we had, there was always a chance the disguise would fall off. Now it did, and the Kingdom is also at war with the First Order. That makes us allies. Anger between allies is counterproductive.”

“How could you use the Death Star technology?”

“The technology isn’t what made it evil. And what you saw today is the outcome of long debates on this very topic. The weapon is nowhere near as powerful, and there’s a reason we split the projectors among eight ships.”

“I don’t understand.”

“So that firing requires the agreement of eight independent crews, capable of ignoring the order and escaping with evidence,” she explained. “Lack of a planet-sized station behind us also limits the power capacity. It’s not a planet-killer. It’s a useful weapon with strengths and weaknesses, like any other.”

Leia reluctantly nodded, eyes still moist. “Building a true Death Star would be beyond the Kingdom’s economy, unnecessary for our military objectives, and against King Gelemod’s doctrine. It’s not us you need to worry about, Princess.”

Nog shifted the subject. “What about what you said about the system?”

“I meant it. Perhaps you haven’t heard the news yet? Six hours ago, Lammo ships attacked a convoy from Kashyyyk into the Kingdom. A fourth war with Lammo. There will be no fifth.”

Jade’s hologram turned, then froze. Motion resumed a few seconds later and it spoke off to the side. “Acknowledged. _Challenger_, dock with _Covenant_. Captain Daari, report for debriefing.”

She turned back to face the personnel on the _Enterprise_. “I am sending troops to seize the shipyard. No ground operation for now. Once we neutralize the Lammo fleet, we can bring in whole corps and take the planets one by one.”

“And the First Order?”

“For now, we’ll only fight them in Duros or Lammo space. You know them, though. There’ll be no coexistence the way there was with the Republic. Lammo is only fighting us, while the First Order has other enemies. We won’t be so unwise as to get into a two-front war.”

“It’s a good plan, General,” Leia said. “If you can carry out. The First Order has plans of its own.”

* * *

“Rey! Rey! Wake up!”

She let her eyes drift open and looked around. Finn’s face was close by, looking at her with worry.

“Hey–?”

“’m tired.”

There had been the battle on the _Absolution_, and then several hours spent helping damage control. The sudden change in command and inoperation of many vital systems due to the cold start took their toll; the _Absolution_ suffered far more damage from the short battle than the _Enterprise_ or any of the tougher-built Duros cruisers. Rey fell asleep as soon as the Star Destroyer was back in the shipyard and Resistance repair crews got to work on it. Now she carefully rose as Finn helped her up.

“Something happen?”

“You’re wanted,” he grinned. “They’re being mysterious as to why, but Poe said they found something interesting in the command center.”

Rey looked around. “Everyone alright?”

He nodded. “We have _Enterprise_ and a Duros fleet,” he said. “Cardinal refuses to shut down the hyperdrive. He and Jade had a spat over that.”

“Why?”

“The Duros really want the shipyard intact, which won’t happen if we blast out of here. Rose says we’ll be fully prepped in three days. Hope it’s enough time.”

“You’re joining Cardinal?”

“He’s making me the XO.”

“Congratulations,” Rey said. “What about Rose?”

Finn blushed. “She’s been running the ship’s engineering since we took over.”

Finn led her through the hallways of the shipyard deeper into its superstructure and finally stopped in front of the door flanked by two Duros soldiers. “General Jade wished to see Rey,” Finn said. “Let’ her know we’re here.”

One of the guards tapped a few keys on his comlink, and in a few moments, the door slid open. “Hi there,” Ruffel Daari said. “The General is waiting.”

General Jade looked Rey over carefully before extending her hand. “You’re the Jedi,” she finally said.

“In a way,” Rey said carefully.

Jade pointed to a half-meter long box sitting on the console. “We found this in the station commandant’s safe. It’s not the first time, either. We’ve found them in possession of high-ranking Lammo officials. That _is_ a symbol of the Jedi Order.” She traced the pattern on the lid.

“Yes it is,” Rey agreed. “Or rather, it’s a variant.”

“Then here’s what I’m going to tell you: this box is impervious to any technical scan we know, and if we break it, it has a mechanism that destroys the contents. At least, that was the fate of previous items we captured. I was hoping a Jedi might have a way to open it safely. Someone went to a lot of protections for it. That alone speaks for its importance.”

Rey nodded. “I’ll try.”

“No,” a voice from behind said. “Do. Or do not. There is no try.”

* * *

General Mara Jade was no stranger to unusual stuff. She’d been an unusual person for most of her life, first as a child of two professional performers living on a spaceliner, and then as a human officer in the Duros army. She liked it. Intelligence work required dealing with the unusual.

She was not prepared for a shimmering figure of a Jedi Master to appear out of nowhere and speak in a perfectly normal voice.

“Master Skywalker,” Rey said, turning to him.

Mara took time to look the man over. “You’re _the_ Luke Skywalker?” she said skeptically.

Princess Ruffel, meanwhile, was staring at the two of them with her eyes wide in astonishment. “What are you talking to?” She seemed so astonished that she made her question in her native Duros, rather than in the Basic she was perfectly fluent in, breaching what was considered good behavior for a Duros noblewoman.

Now Rey looked confused. “You can’t see him?” She gestured at the image.

“There’s no one there,” Finn said.

“But _you_ obviously can,” Rey nodded at Jade.

Mara nodded. “I don’t mind mysteries, but I don’t like having the fate of millions hinge on anyone solving them.”

“That’s the sort of galaxy we live in,” Luke said.

“I’ve never been one to accept what the galaxy threw at me,” Mara retorted.

“You must have some connection to the Force,” Rey declared. “Alright, for later,” she said, seeing Mara’s frown. She closed her eyes and extended her arm over the metal crate.

Clicks came from the inside, and then the lid slowly lifted up to open it. Mara looked inside. There was a glowing crystalline device pulsing with white-purple light. “It’s beautiful,” she said.

“And dark,” Luke and Rey announced simultaneously.

“I can feel it,” Rey said. “How’d you know?”

“There are references. Newer than the texts you took, and a good deal were purged by Sidious. What you have here is a hybrid Jedi-Sith holocron.”

Rey blinked. “Alright…” she said slowly. “How does that work?”

“It varies. This one has a Sith core embedded in a Jedi support matrix, rather than a full blend.”

“What’s it doing here?”

“At a guess? The disbalance pours out into the Force and influences people around it.”

“How?”

“Because the core is Sith, towards cruelty and domination. But filtered through the Jedi projection system–”

“_That’s_ how it happens!” Mara exclaimed. “The prime mover!”

“The prime mover of what?”

“The social degradation of the Lammo Hegemony, as our friend Caruthers puts it.”

“She told you, too?” Princess Ruffel asked.

“Long ago. Empirical evidence said she was right, but the cause was a mystery. Until now.”

“Rey, you need to separate the components,” Luke said.

Rey steeled herself for another powerful vision. The moment she touched it, she found herself in a haze of sand and smoke, dings of battle and flashes of lightsabers. _Long ago, can’t hurt, just a vision_, she told herself. The holocron in front of her pulsed faster and brighter, but the Force-echo of the battle produced no details. _Disbalance indeed._ She had a feeling that things would be clearer if both components were either Jedi or Sith. Her head started aching.

She ignored the background and focused on the object in front of her, picking out places were red light became blue and giving them nudges via the Force. Seven nudges at seven points and a small crack opened. She gently twisted the device and let the gap widen, then winced at the pain when she took hold of the core. Centimeter by centimeter, painful jolts at each pull, she pulled it away from the embedding matrix. A final click of separation, and the vision vanished at the same time as the lights on the holocron itself went went out. She was back in the command center, covered in cold sweat, right hand aching from the pain and holding the red pyramidal crystal. The blue spheroid with an opening remained in her left.

“Is it safe?”

“Should be,” Luke said, “as long as they’re separate.”

“What about putting them together with their _proper_ counterparts?” Mara suggested.

“Wait a minute,” Rey said as she looked over the Jedi portion of the disassembled holocron. “I’ve seen schematics for this.”

“Where?” Luke asked.

“Jakku. I scavenged a luxury yacht once, and it was in one of the droids’ memory modules.”

“The _Imperialis_. Palpatine’s personal vessel. I’ve been there too.”

“But just the schematics. No holocrons themselves.”

“No. Jedi or Sith, these were the most important of Sidious’s possessions. Either falling in stranger hands would be a risk. He kept them close.”

“So they’ve been blown up at Endor?” Mara suggested.

“It’s never complete,” Rey said. “There’s always large pieces of wreckage left. I’ll go there and see.”

“Wait!” Mara commanded. “This can’t be the only such device in the Hegemony. Or even the most important one. How do we open the others, if you’re the only Jedi around?”

“It doesn’t require a Jedi,” Luke said.

“Oh?”

“Affinity with the Force, yes. Jedi training–holocrons were _used_ for Jedi training. Making their use conditional on being a Jedi is self-defeating.”

“You’re saying _I_ could do it?”

“I do.” He opened his arms. “I can’t really sense other people in this state,” he admitted. “But that you and I can interact proves your connection. You might _have_ been a Jedi under other circumstances.”

She snorted. “Considering what happened to your school, I’ll pass.”

“Just… be careful,” Rey advised. “The visions are _never_ pleasant.”


	29. Enterprise 7

Rey emerged from hyperspace and instantly felt currents of darkness in the Force. This was the system where two Sith Lords died among thousands of others; it leaving a mark was quite expected. But there was another, fresher feeling on top of it.

“Kylo Ren,” Rey muttered to herself. She considered whether to reopen the mental link from a few months back or to try to keep herself hidden until they could speak in person. Deciding on the latter, she tightened her focus and guided the X-Wing further down to the forest moon.

“Scan it, Artoo,” she ordered the astromech. A few seconds later, text scrolled on her console.

“Probably for the same reason we are.”

Another scrolled message. “I am one of two people he even _might_ listen to,” she said. “Be prepared to lock out the ship’s controls and keep them so.”

The next transmission took longer. “Yeah, I know. Alright let’s do the biggest one first.”

An island of metal rose from one of Endor’s oceans. The contour was well-recognized even by someone growing up as remotely from galactic affairs as Rey had been. It was a portion of the Death Star’s signature disk of a superlaser projector, only mildly worn down in the decades since it fell here.

“Less than a hundred kilometers from shore,” she noted. The closest region was a grass plain, very different from the tall forest covering the rest of the continent. “Oh,” Rey realized. When the giant shard crashed into the sea, the wave from the impact would have scoured the surroundings, and there had been no time for trees to reclaim the land.

“Well, well,” she smiled at Artoo’s next message. “I was right.”

She read more. “If it did, it did,” she dismissed. “Approach from the seaward side, just in case.” Sitting on the grass plain under open sky was a single-pilot craft, a variant of a TIE interceptor, but clearly made for someone elite. Blasting it was tempting… but even if it stranded Kylo Ren on Endor, that alone wasn’t going to win the war.

She read the next thing. “No, _don’t_ land next to it,” she said. “I want you to stay on the shard.”

More text. “This thing doesn’t have magnetic clamps?”

Reply. “Well, use them.”

Artoo produced another question. “Kylo is here. If more of the First Order comes, I don’t want us to stand out on a scan.” She gestured in the direction of Kylo’s ship. “_They_ won’t hesitate to strand _us_.”

They approached one of the shard’s peaks projecting through the clouds. The artificial island was basically a half-ring with a flooded lagoon, with metal peaks of various heights projecting from around the perimeter.

“Take us down, Artoo,” she said. The surface close to the sea was too overgrown to actually land, so while the X-Wing hovered, Rey opened the cockpit, unstrapped herself, pulled out a satchel of equipment from the emergency compartment, and leapt down.

“I’m good,” she reported. “Find a place to clamp onto where it’ll be hidden from sensors.”

A long whistle. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “The Force can be annoyingly vague.”

* * *

“Can you modify her like the _Enterprise_?”

Rose gave Captain Cardinal a long stare. “Why? Want to flee the galaxy and all its problems?”

“Of course not. But you see the advantage it would give us.”

“First, I’d need the assistance from the Starfleet people. I don’t know how their engines work. And it’ll mean more time in the yard, which I’m guessing won’t go over well with General Jade.”

Cardinal smiled. “No, I suppose not. It’ll have to wait, then. How soon can we be underway?”

“Reactor is up, we’ve got fuel–”

“Lammo,” Cardinal sneered. “If this had been a First Order yard, Jade would be ruling over cinders and radiation.”

“Right,” Rose didn’t comment. Cardinal may have changed sides, but he still had the all-too familiar attitude of the First Order officers who’d slowly destroyed Hays Minor. Finn may have had fond memories from childhood, but he couldn’t impart them to her.

“Bridge to captain,” Finn’s voice came over the intercom. “There is a galaxywide transmission from the First Order, incoming on an open frequency. Do we want to hear it?”

“I do,” Cardinal said at the same moment that Rose announced, “I don’t.”

They looked at each other. “Whether you want or not, Lieutenant Commander, we all _need_ to.”

Unfortunately, that was true. “Pipe it across the ship, and let the Duros and Resistance know about it,” he said.“

"Yes, sir.” A moment later, a hologram projection of a starfield materialized in the engineering bay. Imperial-era music blared, and then the stars moved, imitating a flight for the viewer. A wedge-shaped ship floated into view.

“Another one?” Rose snarled, looking at the sister-ship of the perished _Supremacy_.

The motion zoomed forward towards the ship, and then through the hull inside, over rows of stormtroopers in formation standing before a stage with a viewport behind. On the stage, General Hux and assorted officers in crisp black uniforms met the holocam with merciless gazes.

Then everything was replaced by a twice-lifesize hologram of Hux. He took one step forward and opened his mouth.

“Citizens of the Galaxy, the First Order has two gifts for you today!”

“Gifts,” Rose drawled, unable to turn her eyes away and horrified at what she was about to see.

* * *

Leia and Poe had been planning the Resistance’s next moves aboard _Enterprise_ when Captain Ferraro let them know about Hux’s broadcast. Equally curious and fearful, they let the holographic image appear in the room with them and sat in silence.

“The first gift,” Hux announced, “is justice!”

The holographic transmission changed from Hux’s form to a glass box floating in space. The box is barely large enough to hold one human body.

“Mon,” Leia whispered.

“For the crime of perpetuating chaos in the galaxy, the First Order sentences former Chancellor of the New Republic Mon Mothma to death!”

A green turbolaser beam pierced the hologram and turned the whole image to white flame. When the light faded there was nothing left.

Leia closed her eyes and held back tears as the pain in the Force slammed into her.

“Welcome to the new era, citizens of the galaxy! An era of stability, peace, purpose and glory! An era of the First Order!”

The intership comm chirped. “Not a very enticing advertisement,” Nog adjucated.

“I don’t like this,” Poe said. “If that was the biggest thing they had, it would be second ‘gift’, not the first.”

* * *

All traces of Mon Mothma vanished, and Hux’s face reappeared. He was smiling gleefuly.

“The second gift,” he continued, “is safety! Through the First Order’s technological might, we rule more than planets; we rule the space between them!” He extended his hand to the side, and another hand placed a small white device into his palm. Hux looked at it, as if thinking, and then lifted his head again.

“This is the Duro system, where a criminal fleeing Imperial justice claims to be the King! But it is time he paid for his many crimes. Gelemod Daar, I am taking your so-called Kingdom away from you!” He waved the device.

Rose and Cardinal met each others’ eyes in confusion. “It’s not another starkiller, is it?”

Cardinal shook his head. “I’d know if they were building one.”

“The days of any scumbag fleeing law away from the system of their crimes are over!” Hux shouted. “As of now, hyperspace travel in the galaxy is a privilege granted by the First Order!” He thumbed the button.

The hologram zoomed out away from the supremacy, and then was peppered with rapid flashes of explosions. “What is happening?”

“No idea.”

“The Duro system is now cut off from the galaxy! It will be thus with any who defy the First Order!”

The hologram once again showed the flagship, but this time there were several Duros cruisers in the frame. They opened fire, but the enormous wedge didn’t even reply with its own turbolasers. Instead, it turned a couple degrees and vanished into hyperspace.

Moments later, so did the Duros ships.

“So, it was all hogswash?” Rose asked.

“You can’t just lie like that, with something so easy to prove wrong,” Cardinal countered.

As if on cue, the cruisers reappeared. Then several blue bolts headed straight for them, and the hologram vanished.

“Transmission cut off,” Finn announced from the bridge. Rose nodded. Whatever was going on, the Duros didn’t want the First Order to broadcast it to everyone.

“General Jade is hailing us. She wants a command meeting.”

“Tell her I’ll be there,” Cardinal said. He tapped the ship’s intercom. “Bay two, ready my shuttle.” He turned to Rose. “Can you and Commander Finn stock the ship up on spare parts? Share with the Resistance and the Duros, but if we have to get out of here, I don’t want anything useful in the yard.”

Rose nodded. “If we _can_ get out of here.” She gestured at where the hologram had been. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

* * *

Rey climbed through a broken viewport and looked around. The uneasy feeling from the Force was stronger. She was in a long corridor with hardly any details visible in the trickle of light coming in. She took several steps, contemplating whether to ignite the lightsaber.

Then she shut her eyes under a luminous flood.

The place had been heavily decorated in red and black, though much of it had been worn down. The lights came from dozens of hovering droids, with recognizable First Order markings. At the end of the corridor stood a large table with a swivel chair turned away from her. As she approached, the chair turned, revealing Kylo Ren.

“You have something of mine, child,” the Supreme Leader declared and before Rey realized, the combined holocron floated out of her pocket. That’s when Rey noticed a curious device sitting on the table in front of Ren. It looked somewhat similar to the outside of the holocron, though it was black rather than blue. It was symmetrical, except that there was a red tetrahedron embedded in a slot on the device’s right. The left slot was empty.

Ren raised his hand and fired a blast of lightning at the holocron Rey brought. She flinched as the outer covering broke, revealing another red tetrahedron. _The Sith core_.

She understood. “Ben,” she called out.

Kylo laughed. “Ben Solo was weak,” he said.

Confused, Rey stared. “I don’t understand.”

“That is not necessary.” Rey instinctively pulled the holocron core back into her hand.

Ren’s face turned angry. “Give it to me.”

“Why?”

Instead of answering, he raised his hand again and launched an electric stream at her. Rey dropped, rolled away, and came up, lightsaber at the ready.

“Ben!” she yelled again. Stretching in the Force, she tried to open up the mental bond they had shared. Nothing happened. Ben was far away, and surrounded by the dark side, both his own… and someone else’s.

“Who. Are. You?” she demanded.

She got another blast of lightning in return, which hit her blade and nearly caused her to drop the lightsaber. Clenching on, she pushed back, then got out of the way from the next round.

Fury in his eyes, Ren leapt out of the chair and spun towards her, red lightsaber igniting towards her. The blades clashed and she stumbled backwards under the impact.

“Give! Me! The! Holocron!” Ren snarled. “It! Doesn’t! Belong! To! You!”

She lifted her hand and pushed at Ren with the Force, then swung the lightsaber, forcing him to parry. “Why? Why do you need it?”

Three of the droids that were lighting the room suddenly rushed at her from different sides, Rey dodged one, plunged her lightsaber into the other, but the third impacted her back. She had to leap out of the way to avoid being impaled on Ren’s blade, and in mid-leap, Kylo reached out, grabbed her pants’ leg, and yanked with all his strength. Fabric tore, Rey clumsily crashed to the floor, and Ren quickly pilfered through the pocket on the ripped-away garment to extract what he wanted.

He turned and threw one more bolt of lightning over his back, making Rey avoid it but otherwise acting like it didn’t matter. He strode up to the desk and plugged the crystal in.

Two beams sprung from the device and hit both him and Rey simultaneously. Rey blinked, and had to concentrate on seeing more, as a feeling of dizziness came over her. Each step was harder and harder than the previous one.

A third beam projected from the device, directly into the chair, and a figure started materializing in it. It was as transparent as a comm hologram, but Rey knew that it was quite real. The dark side of the Force poured out of it.

Ren was as mesmerized as her at the appearing figure. As it became more opaque, features set in that caused both of them to blink. Lifting up the eyelids was a chore, but Rey had to do it, because it was unbelievable. A second look left no doubts whatsoever, though.

Even as a Jakku scaveger, Rey would have recognized the figure. She’d seen more since then, in the images from the Republic era that some Resistance members collected, and heard even more from the ghost of Master Skywalker as she immersed herself in the Jedi texts. The identity of the person now appearing in front of them was not in doubt.

Sheev Palpatine. Emperor of the Galactic Empire. Sith Lord Darth Sidious.

The embodiment of evil let out a cackling laugh.


	30. Enterprise 8

“Thank you for coming,” General Jade said to the gathered coalition leaders. Admiral Nog and Captain Ferraro of Starfleet, General Leia and Commander Dameron from the Resistance, and Captain Cardinal of the _Absolution_ were in person in the briefing room aboard the _Covenant_. General Sabine Wren of Mandalore sat as a hologram next to Leia. Jade knew the Resistance leader had made contact with others, but things were too urgent to wait.

“I take it you all saw the speech from Hux,” she began. “The good news is… he exaggerated when he declared Duro cut off. Comms work just fine. It’s travel that’s the problem, and whether it means he took the Kingdom away from King Gelemod remains to be seen. We are not the sort of realm that sucks everything into the capital. That includes military power. Keeping First Fleet out of the campaign against Lammo is a setback, but not a crippling blow.”

“But what stops the from doing it to your other systems?” Leia asked.

“Economics,” Nog replied. “If they could have covered the whole galaxy, they would have.”

“On the other hand,” Jade continued, “it’s not something to be shrugged off. Duro has supply stockpiles and the King has already instituted rationing, but if trade with other systems isn’t restored, most of the population will starve. There’s just not enough agriculture on Duro to support everyone who lives there.”

Cardinal growled. “How long?”

“Five months, give or take,” Jade said.

“What do we know about how they’re doing it?” Ferraro asked. “We’re the only ones who have dedicated science teams at the ready. Let’s start with what we know.”

“So far, not much,” Jade answered and raised a datacard. “I got this report from the commander of the squadron that moved to engage the _Dominion_.”

“_Dominion_?” Poe asked.

“The new First Order flagship now that _Supremacy_ is gone,” Cardinal explained.

“It reads like fantasy,” Jade commented. “According to them, they did jump into hyperspace, but once in there, they weren’t moving through it. We saw it on the hologram, how the ships popped out exactly where they vanished. Well, not _exactly_,” she clarified. “According to this report, the realspace speed was about five meters per second.”

“That’s a slow down of _sixteen orders of magnitude!_ What could do that?” Sabine demanded.

“_I_ have no idea. Unfortunately, the First Order does.”

“That’s a good thing,” Ferraro said.

Leia, Mara, Poe, Sabine, and Cardinal stared at the Starfleet officer. “Explain,” Sabine said carefully.

“The First Order fleet left,” Ferraro said. “So they control it.”

“Of course they do. What could be the alternative?”

“That they discovered some natural phenomenon that neither they nor anybody else understands, and just make use of it. But ‘First Order and everybody else’ is not a natural distinction. And if they know how it works, so can we, either by reproducing the science, or by stealing it.”

“Espionage in the First Order is difficult,” Jade said. “And it’s better if the agents at least have a little idea of what to look for.”

“Then let’s try to find it,” Nog said. “I will send the _Delta Quadrant_ to the Duro system to study the phenomenon on site.”

Jade frowned. “If you fail, you’ll be stranded too.”

“Not necessarily. Our ships have warp drives, which use a different physical principle. It’s slower, but it’ll let us reach at least other Duros worlds.”

“That’s… an assumption,” Jade said.

“If we fail,” Leia said, “we lose the war. The galaxy just isn’t prepared; hyperspace has always been free. No one has _ever_ heard of something like this happening ever. I even asked Maz Kanata.”

“So what are you saying?”

“Duro won’t starve, General. It will surrender, along with the rest of the galaxy. And waiting for the First Order to collapse from within can be a long, long time.”

“I don’t know,” Nog mused. “They do seem rather short-sighted.”

Ferraro nodded. “As I said, ‘First Order versus everyone else’ isn’t a natural distinction.” She smiled. “So we should find out how they do it, and then make it work in reverse.”

“Now that will be a change,” Poe said with excitement.

Nog’s comm chirped. “May I?”

“Go ahead,” Jade said.

He tapped. “Admiral Nog here.”

“We’ve hit a mine, sir. Lost the port nacelle, and had to take the warp core offline.”

“Can you make it to to the yard for repairs?”

“Yes, but we’re not leaving the system, by either warp or hyperdrive.”

“Understood.” He turned to the meeting. “That was the _Delta Quadrant_. This isn’t good.”

“Send us,” Cardinal volunteered. “General Jade will be finally happy to have us out of her shipyard.”

“But you don’t have a warp drive.”

“You’ve got smaller ships with them, right?” Jade asked

“Of course. Shuttles and _Defiants_.”

“Send the _Absolution_ with a couple aboard. And let us have one to copy if it works. We’ll need that anyway if that’s the only solution; the ships you have here aren’t enough.”

Nog and Ferraro exchanged glances. “No, the Prime Directive doesn’t apply,” he said, and tapped his combadge again. “Nog to Captain T'Viradi.”

“T'Viradi here.”

“Transfer your science department and shuttles to _Absolution_. Instruct _Nereid_ and _Sydney_ to join them, then begin repairs.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Can I have some X-Wings?” Cardinal asked.

Leia and Poe raised eyebrows. “Why?”

“To conduct the experiments on a non-First Order hyperdrive.”

“Fighters, yes. Pilots, no. Not risking getting stuck in the Duro system.”

“That’s alright. We don’t need them for fancy flying. As for getting stuck… that’s why we should use _Absolution_.”

“Surely the First Order databases have been updated to exclude your ship by now,” Jade said.

“Probably,” Cardinal agreed. “Which is why I’m going to change our transponder signal.”

“You’ve got a copy of another Star Destroyer?”

“Yeah, that’s what Vi and I were doing when we learned about _Absolution_. Stealing the readouts from _Tarkin’s Legacy_.”

* * *

Rey glared at the Emperor. “You were behind it all,” she said.

“Anger, young Jedi. Excellent. Makes it quicker.”

“Makes what quicker?”

“The final eradication of all memory of the Jedi from the galaxy.”

“That is not possible.”

“You are in my power, as is the last Skywalker. All you do is quicken my return.”

Rey didn’t understand, but she saw Palpatine’s figure grow more solid, the yellow eyes brighter by the second. Her own movements, by contrast, were becoming more and more sluggish.

“Ben! He’s stealing our life!”

Sidious grinned. “He is too steeped in the dark side, and you have foolishly linked your mind to his. Already you are too weak to resist.”

She raised her lightsaber, painfully slowly. Palpatine laughed again.

He was right. Rey had no chance to strike down the Sith Lord. She could do something unexpected… would the ressurrection, or whatever it was, stop if she killed Ben? Or herself? Or… both at once?

Even if it would, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. That was not how Jedi operated.

_And look at what the Jedi have been brought down to._

_I do not choose the Light to win some cosmic game,_ a voice reverberated through her. _I choose it because it is the Light._

She tried to connect to the Force, pushing against the overwhelming darkness in Sidious and Kylo. She couldn’t overpower them, she knew instantly. And then, recalling moments of intense connection to the Force, she got a fit of inspiration. Ignoring Sidious entirely, she focused on her lightsaber and lifted it into the air between herself and Ben, then opened her mind connection with him to send a simple direction.

Kylo Ren pulled off his glove and reached out with the bare hand. Rey mirrored him and their fingers intertwined over the lightsaber. Together, their thumbs pressed the switch.

Snap-hiss.

The blue blade vaulted up, ready to cut.

Ben’s eyes flicked and met hers. They moved to strike Sidious down.

And were engulfed in whiteness.

* * *

Lieutenant Paige Tico, science officer of the USS _Delta Quadrant_, temporarily assigned to the captured First Order Star Destroyer _Absolution_ to figure out the hyperspace blocker problem, nervously tapped on the blast door. “Enter,” the reply came.

Paige steeled herself. This had to work. For everyone’s sake. She entered the _Absolution_‘s engineering bay.

“Congratulations on the promotion,” she said. “Chief engineer.”

Rose Tico stepped out from behind a panel. “I never thought I’d worry about too much damage to one of these things,” she tapped a bulkhead. She made a gulp. “Sorry.”

“Don’t. I know what I look like to you.”

“I miss her,” Rose admitted. “And now, I wonder what you two would make of each other.”

“Play twin pranks?” Paige suggested.

Rose laughed, then looked her over critically. “Probably wouldn’t work. Your Federation’s translators…”

“Something wrong with them?”

“Not quite… but with them, I hear you speak like a Coruscanti news anchor. I doubt my Haysean accent is carried over either.”

“Translator engineering is not my specialty, so I couldn’t say if that can be done,” Paige said. “And now is not the time. I will be sending ships through the blockers and bringing them back for study. And we need strict isolation, to avoid the _Absolution_ being caught in it.”

Rose considered. “More than the standard force fields?”

“The Duros cruisers had them, according to General Jade, and they were still lost.”

“How do you think it works?”

“I’m a scientist, Rose. I don’t formulate theories before I have facts.”

“Sorry.”

“The most important part, something Mom grasped immediately–”

Rose sighed again. Paige took her hands in hers and met her eyes. “I’ve had more luck than your sister,” she said. “But not in all things. You two actually knew our father, and your mother had more time with him than mine.”

Rose nodded. “Do you know how confusing that sounds? Do you have to deal with things like this all the time?”

“The Tom Riker effect is not _that_ common,” Paige said. “Precision does help. I’m not used to calling my mom 'Captain Ferraro’ outside formal settings.”

“So what was her insight?” Rose asked.

“That it permits First Order ships through, and no others. That rules out chemical contaminants, non-engineered lifeforms, and natural astrophysical phenomena. Don’t worry. I’ve got a whole suite of experiments lined up. This is not a Starfleet ship,” she said. “If it were, though, it would be your responsibility, as chief engineer, to warn of potential danger to either the vessel or the crew. I can’t do that; I don’t know how a Star Destroyer works.”

Rose breathed out. “Everyone always told me that I can’t just follow Pae-Pae’s lead.”

“Well, I’m not her, am I? So feel free to object. Though I’d rather you use words rather than a shock prod.”

Rose blushed. “Finn told you about that?”

Paige nodded. “Hey, I understand. Cardinal told us to put all vehicles destined for experimentation to Bay Four. Let’s make sure that any problems stay there. As someone wrote a long time ago… we’re going to science the shit out of this.”

* * *

The _Absolution_ emerged from hyperspace near one of the cold gas giants of the Duro system. Cardinal made a gesture and a tactical hologram appeared on the bridge.

“Eight-cruiser Duros squadron heading our way, Captain.”

“Open channel.”

“_Tarkin’s Legacy_, you are not permitted in Duros space. Surrender or be destroyed.”

“Now or never,” Finn encouraged.

Cardinal nodded. “Duros squadron, we are not, repeat, not, _Tarkin’s Legacy_. This is the Resistance Star Destroyer _Absolution_.”

There was some hesitation. “You read as _Tarkin’s Legacy_ to us.”

“A necessity to neutralize First Order hyperspace blockers. We are here by permission of General Jade, with a mandate to study the blocker and develop a workaround.”

“Lower shields and maintain position. Do not approach the planet.”

“Acknowledged,” Cardinal said. “Lieutenant Commander Tico?”

“Yes?” Rose’s voice came over the intercom.

“Can we jump?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it?”

“Get ready to,” he ordered. “We can’t fire on them.”

“Understood.”

A new voice came over the channel. “_Tarkin_–_Absolution_, transmit authorization code from General Jade for verification.”

Finn nodded. “Transmission commencing.”

They waited. The Duros cruisers surrounded _Absolution_ and raised shields. A few minutes later, the voice returned. “Prepare for holocomm.”

A Duros general appeared moments later, and even as a figure of bluish light, his eyes were brimming with anger. Moments later, a second hologram lit up the bridge, a disheveled figure of General Jade.

“What the hell is going on?” the Duros demanded.

“Sir, I am in the middle of a battle. The permission is genuine. Jade out.” And the woman disappeared.

“This is General Noripel Daar,” the Duros pronounced. “We do not need the humans’ help.”

“Daar?” Finn whispered. “As in–”

The whisper apparently wasn’t quite enough. “The King is my brother, not that it’s relevant. He’s always been soft on humans. You’ll be dealing with me. What are you here for?”

Cardinal rose. “We have a common enemy in the First Order. So far, this system is the only one where hyperspace blockers have been deployed. We are here to study them, as we said.”

“Is that so?”

“We have an… ally in possession of an alternate propulsion system. We will test to see if it is affected. If not, we are authorized to pass along working samples, full technical documentation, and assistance of experts to the Kingdom of Duros, without expectation of compensation.”

The general appeared to stifle. “I do not trust in the generosity of humans.”

“According to General Jade, if trade isn’t restored, this system will starve in six months.”

“Jade has a big mouth.”

“Will we be allowed to proceed with experiments on hyperspace blockers?”

“Unfortunately, by orders of the King,” General Daar announced. “Keep at least one light-hour from the sun. Cross that line, we open fire. I expect a progress report every twenty-four hours. Daar out.”

His hologram winked out before Cardinal had a chance to acknowledge. He tapped the intercom.

“Lieutenant Tico, are you alright with the restrictions?”

“For now. If this works, we’ll need permission to send warp technology and documentation to Duro. The light-hour is closer than the initial confrontation took place, and those ships were taken. In fact, from the footage, I think those three cruisers were among those that confronted us.”

“Then go ahead and begin.” He closed the comm. “Contact the _Covenant_. I want to speak with Jade, but if she’s too busy, it can wait.”

However, in a few minutes, the redheaded woman’s image was back on their bridge. She smiled. “Victory?” Cardinal asked.

“I exaggerated the urgency when I spoke to General Daar,” she said. “The victory was in the bag.” Her expression changed to frustration. “Hooray. Another system retaken from Lammo,” she grumbled. “Hundreds of asteroids sent into chaotic orbits, debris from ships will be a navigational hazard for years, and without ground troops from Duro, the only way we could stop a planetary genocide is to strike the perpetrators from orbit, which prompted countermassacres.”

“How’d you survive under General Daar?”

“Easier than you did, in the First Order.”

“How come you’re out there? Our info says you’re the Kingdom’s head of military intelligence.”

“In the First Galactic Army, we had to be versatile. And with the blockade, I’m the senior general outside the Duro system, so on the spot coordination between deployed commands falls to me. That pisses off Daar, by the way.”

“Is he going to cause trouble?”

“No. No matter how much he hates humans, he won’t disobey the King. But let me guess: he offered no information on what we found from the cruisers that attempted to jump through the blockade.”

“Not a word.”

Jade sighed. “Very well. You are not exactly safe from it yourself. We tried using captured First Order transponders to circumvent it, like you. The problem is what happens when the same transponder is used on multiple ships. Then they both get blocked.”

“I’ll take that under advisement, in case the real _Tarkin’s Legacy_ shows up.”

“Then I won’t bother you anymore. I will have my staff from back at HQ send over the data gathered to Lieutenant Tico. Report when there’s progress. Jade out.”

“I don’t like this,” Finn said.

“Why?”

“It’s been too quiet. The Duros are conquering their ally, and the First Order does nothing. What’s their next move?”


	31. Enterprise 9

Rey stood in a well-lit hangar, in front of a large armed crowd. Ben stood next to her, equally confused. “Impossible,” he said.

“What?”

“This looks like–”

The enormous door in front of them opened, and revealed Palpatine, black robed. He took a long lightsaber handle off his belt and looked at it curiously.

“Naboo,” he and Ben said simultaneously and looked at each other.

“We’ll take the long way,” a woman spoke behind them.

“What is going on?” Ben asked Rey, but then Palpatine ignited the lightsaber. It had blades on both ends, and he charged at them.

Rey barely had time to activate hers, which brought another moment of confusion, as it was shaped differently and was green. Then the blades clashed.

“Help!” she shouted to Ben.

And almost to her surprise, he lit his own blue blade and joined in.

“What trickery did you commit, Jedi?” Sidious demanded as he parried their strikes, seemingly without effort. “My apprentice, Darth Maul, fought here many years ago.”

“And what happened to him?” She dodged a force-enhanced kick and leapt over the Sith Lord, while Ben produced a flurry of rapid strikes, inducing him into retreat.

“He suffered defeat, unfortunately. But then, so did the Jedi in whose place you now stand.”

“Qui-Gon Jinn,” Ben informed her. “I studied enough history, _master_,” he snarled at Palpatine. “That would make me Obi-Wan Kenobi.” He then laughed.

That was so unexpected that even Palpatine looked surprised. Rey didn’t understand either, but took the opportunity to attack. They were now in a tall room full of lit walkways and glowing pillars, and had to move carefully to avoid falling.

Sidious blocked her attack, but late enough for Rey to keep striking. Ben moved to join in, and his next blow was powerful enough to knock the Sith Lord onto his back. They moved in for the kill, but Palpatine raised his hand and unleashed lightning. Ben flew upwards several meters, while Rey caught the bolt on her blade and despite pouring all her will and strength, felt herself slide back to the walkways edge.

Ben hurled his lightsaber, accelerating its spin with the Force, straight towards Palpatine. The dark lord aimed one hand away from it while continuing to pour electricity out of the other at Rey. Under reduced pressure, she stopped herself, took several rapid gasps of air, and dropped down to slide towards him, green blade ready. Ben was now running up, having summoned the saber-staff away from Sidious under the distraction. But Palpatine stopped the lightning and halted the blue lightsaber’s spin, pulling it into him. He blocked Rey’s strike and with leverage, hurled Rey back, forcing her to shut down her blade and roll to nearly drop off the ledge. The three fighters stood up, blades raised.

“Rey!” Ben shouted, and shut down his double-bladed weapon. Then he threw it past Palpatine at her. Instantly, she understood, and did the same with her weapon.

“Games, Jedi?” Sidious snarled.

Rey gripped the weapon and activated both blades. “Experience,” she answered, and charged.

Rey had fought on Jakku with a staff for years. Ben trained with as single-bladed lightsaber for half his life. They now were each armed with the weapon most suitable to their skills. Palpatine fired lightning at both of them, but with wasn’t enough. He could block them, but not without allowing either Rey or Ben to get in closer or taking a step backwards.

Rey locked a blade with the Sith Lord’s. Taking the opportunity, Ben extended his left hand and summoned the lightsaber from his right into it, aiming to put it through Palpatine’s head. But Sidious was too quick; he shut off his own blade, putting Rey off balance, and reignited it as he raised, slicing Ben’s arm clean off between shoulder and elbow.

With his other arm, Ben punched him in the face, putting in so much strength, Force and physical, into the blow, that it sent Palpatine flying back, off the walkway and into the void below. Then he collapsed from the pain and clutched his stump.

Rey rushed to help him, but there was a blinding flash from underneath, and they were all once more engulfed in a white void.

* * *

“Science Officer’s Log, Stardate 78231.4,” Paige dictated. “We’ve concluded field experiments in the Duro system and determined that the hyperspace blockers deployed by the First Order do not affect standard Federation warp drives. However, hyperspace travel by non-First Order vessels is affected even in combination with warp travel. Should the _Enterprise_ try to enter hyperspace in an affected area, we will be unable to return to our home galaxy.”

“And the First Order could invade you,” Rose said.

“They’ll have to get the warp drive specs,” Paige replied. “I know, I know. Now that we passed them on the the Duros, it won’t take long. We need to win this war before they can mass an invasion force.”

“Warp is much slower. I don’t know how things could work if takes decades to travel from Core to Rim.”

Paige sighed. “I know. The Kingdom of Duros is small enough and self-sufficient, which is a relief. But everyone agrees with General Leia on this. We can’t afford to lose. There are always disparities between guerrillas and occupiers in many things, including travel speed, but not on this scale.”

“Is there _no way_ to build in cleansers?”

“I just don’t see one.” They’ve discovered that hyperspace blockers were caused by nanotech bots that had filled the Duros system. The bots could self-replicate, and would spread until the total density was within parameters. They could be only removed via transporter from a space completely closed off by solid metal or force fields. During the experiments, Paige and her team had named the procedure ‘cleansing’. Once the ship was cleansed, its hyperdrive worked normally… until the next time it tried to jump in space filled with the bots. Then it would be infected again.

The Duros’ factories had gone into overdrive after Paige sent them the prototype and schematics, and they were rapidly installing warp drives on all the warships in the system. But though the usage of warp would ameliorate the problem, at the very least preventing starvation of the Duros capital, it was a poor workaround in all respects, and everyone recognized it. They found no real solutions: cleansing was a long, energy-intensive procedure that couldn’t be done on an operating drive, and attempts at local-level hacking of the bots to reverse their recognition pattern failed.

“You know, Finn and I have been on the First Order flagship before.”

“What are you saying?” Paige looked at Rose in curiosity.

“Infiltration is possible,” she said. “And that’s without your teleporter. Though I don’t know how anyone risks it given what can happen.” She pointed at her.

“No such thing as absolute safety. And in case you haven’t noticed, we’re in a _war_. The transporter has limits, though. Can’t beam through shields.”

Rose nodded. “But it’s doable. And if we are to reverse it–I think we’ll have to. Could you do it? If you had the control panel?”

Paige nodded. “Old rule: physical access to hardware negates all software protections. There is a major danger, though.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve sent this in a separate report to Admiral Nog. I don’t want this widespread.”

“What?”

“We are acting under the assumption that there is only one control center for the bots.”

“Why?”

“Redundancy distributes power. First Order won’t want one of their admirals to block out an area for himself. So it’ll all be centrally controlled.”

“And well-protected.”

“True. But in case the protection fails, there’ll then be _no way_ to alter the bots.”

“What’ll that mean?”

“They’ll stop all ships not recognized as First Order. And that will include any _new_ First Order ships.”

“That’s… an improvement?”

“First Order transponders becoming the most valuable thing in the galaxy? Maybe. But regarding what we’re talking about: it’s what will happen if I make a mistake cracking that computer core and destroy it.”

Rose squeezed her shoulder. “You can do it.”

“I can’t be the one to make this decision. Not with everything at stake. And even if we succeed… wow.”

“Wow? Not the word I expected.”

“Mom said Admiral Nog called the First Order shortsighted. He was understating.”

“How so?”

“Think about it, Rose. The possibility of this blockage has been publicly proclaimed. Others will discover the same things we did. Others will want to cut someone off from the wider galaxy and benefit for granting access. A government with their enemies. A business with their customers. A despot with their subjects. And that will be so whether we win or lose.” She gave a grim smile. “Well, if we lose, we’ll be dead, and the First Order will be the ones dealing with the problem.”

“What _can_ we do?”

“Like I said, a First Order victory won’t solve the problem, so there’s no reason to give up the fight. And then we’ll need to neutralize the bots. Permanently. We’re here to destroy prisons, not break them up into a patchwork of rival ones.”

* * *

Rey stood in a spacious but poorly lit office, quite similar to the one they’d been in before she forced Ben to grip Luke’s old saber. Wind blew over her from the wide window just broken open, with the chunks of shattered transparisteel still crunching under her boots. Palpatine stood before her, red lightsaber in hand. She was wearing brown Jedi robes and gripping an intricate gold lightsaber hilt with a purple blade extending from the emitter.

“I won here before, girl!” he snarled. The Sith Lord’s blows came fast, and Rey had to leap out of his way a few times. Ben ran into the office and stopped in his tracks.

“You fell!” he shouted at Palpatine.

“And you lost your arm!” the Sith Lord snapped. Ben looked at his left arm, which appeared whole.

“It hurt,” he announced, and quickly moved to help Rey. They blocked Sidious’s next strike together. Rey noted his lightsaber was the same one she’d been using for the past year.

“Uh-oh.”

“This is when it happened. This is where Vader was born.”

“You are not your grandfather, Ben!” Rey shouted. Palpatine unleashed another fountain of lightning, and she had to yell over crackle and blade clashes. “The Dark Side brought neither him nor you anything but misery!”

“What do you know of the Dark Side?” Sidious demanded. A two-meter golden statue moved away from the wall and flew towards them. Rey and Ben had to leap apart to avoid getting crushed.

“What I said! Have you ever been happy, Sheev?”

“I am now! You are filled with anger, girl!”

“You aren’t even real!” she retorted. “You’ve been dead for thirty years, killed by the apprentice you created here!”

“Not for long!”

Sidious’s used the Force to rip a portion of the office’s carpet from the floor, wrinkle it, and slide it across, tripping Ben into a fall. He unleashed another attack on Rey, forcing her to retreat. Understanding the plan, Rey once again leapt over him before she could be pinned to the wall. But Palpatine ducked while she was in mid-flight, and hit her from below with a full barrage of lightning, driving her into shock and pinning her to the ceiling. Then he dropped her onto his waiting lightsaber blade.

Ben had recovered and attacked him, but wasn’t fast enough to knock him out of the way completely. Agony torn through Rey as the red blade pierced her thigh. Her leg useless, she crawled a short distance and leaned against a small stool, gasping in pain and watching Palpatine move against Ben.

He wasn’t doing well, despite being physically much stronger than Sidious. Rey looked around for her lightsaber, but didn’t see it. Then her eyes fell on another golden statue, a copy of the one Palpatine tried to ram them with. She suppressed the pain in the right leg, raised her arms and focused on it with the Force.

The statue came off its moorings with a loud crack that distracted both Ben and Sidious. Rey kept it floating and tried to spin it with the Force, but Sidious raised one arm to halt. Ben came to her assistance and they rotated it, first slowly, then faster and faster before hurling it into the Sith Lord. Palpatine ducked and sliced it in half with the lightsaber, but Ben and Rey anticipated that. Each one took control of one piece, and when Sidious rose up and prepared to unleash more lightning on the two of them, two multi-ton chunks of metal smashed together onto him.

And before any of them could react, Rey was once again bathed in featureless white light.

* * *

“Lieutenant Pava?” Caruthers stepped onto the bridge to evaluate the _Challenger_‘s new copilot. “Are you alright?”

“What are they doing there?”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh. Sorry, ma'am. Can I do something?”

“What is _who_ doing _where_?”

“Sorry. I was monitoring the homing beacon Moradi and Cardinal had placed on _Tarkin’s Legacy_ when they stole their codes. Thought it would be a good idea, since the report we got that there’d be trouble with the hyperspace blockers if both ships were in the same system.”

“And?”

“Here, Colonel. They’ve been moving a lot, with neither rhyme or reason.”

She brought up a galactic map with several lit dots. “This is where they’ve been over the past two weeks.”

“Interesting,” a new voice said from behind.

“Captain,” Caruthers acknowledged.

“How long did they remain in each system?” Ruffel Daari asked.

“A few hours, a day once. These are not major systems. Unpopulated or low-tech, mostly, but that’s not enough time to secure even a world like this. Assuming she’s jumping alone.”

“Is there a reason to make that assumption, Lieutenant Pava.”

The Resistance pilot nodded. “If she’s part of a fleet that leaves substantial garrisons, why not dispatch the appropriate ships to each system at once? And even one Star Destroyer is overkill for anything to be found there.”

“There is logic to that. But not everyone is driven by logic.”

Caruthers laughed. “Not even those who profess to be.”

“Sorry?”

“Never mind, Princess. Lots of guesswork.”

“Here’s the puzzle,” Daari said. She tapped a few controls, and half the dots indicated systems visited by _Tarkin’s Legacy_ winked out. “Imagine you only saw these.”

The pattern was obvious. “Calperi,” Pava said.

“The capital of Lammo Hegemony,” Daari acknowledged, indicating the clustering. They’re positioning… something along hyperlanes leading there.

“Not all of them.”

“Well, you don’t close off the _entrance_ into a trap before you spring it. And _Tarkin’s Legacy_ may not be the only ship involved.

"So what’s the rest of their tour about?” Caruthers brought back the entire itinerary of the Star Destroyer. “Throwing away data that doesn’t fit is not how you detect a pattern.”

“I’ll inform General Jade. She needs to see this before invading Calperi. Then we’re going to go here,” she gestured at a system visited by _Tarkin’s Legacy_ that didn’t fit the pattern of surrounding Calperi, “and see for ourselves.”

“Without orders from Jade?” Caruthers asked.

“The _Challenger_ is a scout ship of the Duros Royal Army,” Daari announced. “Let’s do some scouting. If Jade wishes to countermand, she has the codes. I have a feeling she won’t.”

“Understood, Captain,” Caruthers said. “Prepare for hyperspace.”

The intercom chirped. “Are we going somewhere?” Caami asked.

“Yes, we are,” Daari replied.

“Is it safe?”

“No.”

“Damn it! We’re fresh off repairs from your last stunt, _Colonel Caruthers_,” the chief engineer snarled. “Another–”

“It’s my decision,” Daari said. She did a quick calculation. “We have six hours in hyperspace. Do what you can to prepare.”

“Prepare for what?”

“Anything,” Caruthers said. “We really don’t know. We’re going to find out.”

Caami audibly sighed. “I will do my best. Caami out.”

“Not your biggest fan?” Pava asked.

Caruthers gestured at the ship’s controls. “Focus on the jump, Lieutenant. It’s… complicated. I was in Starfleet. I worked for the New Republic. Now I serve aboard the Duros ship. People get ideas about my loyalties… or lack thereof.”

“And?”

“As long as we have a common enemy, does it matter?”

“And after?” Daari asked.

“Anyone who thinks the Federation, the Republic, or the Kingdom of Duro should be enemies to one another _is_ an enemy to all. Where they spring from is immaterial.”

“Interesting attitude.”

“It’s commonly declared, though less commonly followed. The New Republic was hell-bent on not repeating the errors of the Old, where tyranny came out of their own institutions. Hence the demilitarization. When Senator Organa was revealed to be Vader’s daughter, it looked like all the worst fears of those who dreaded the repeat of Palpatine’s rise were coming true. And here we are, having learned the lessons of the fall of the Old Republic _too well_.”

Pava interrupted their conversation. “Course laid in. Ready to jump, Captain.”

“Go ahead,” Daari ordered.

“May the Force be with us,” Pava said, and pulled the launch lever. The starlines in the viewport stretched and vanished.


	32. Enterprise 10

Rey stood at the top of a wide staircase, tightly gripping a red lightsaber and pushing back against a green blade. Her leg still ached from the pain, but it was growing duller. Palpatine sat on the throne to her left, eyes gleaming and a delightful smile on his face. Kylo, momentarily, shocked, stepped back and stared at the hilt in his hands and the green light of its shaft.

“Do you really want to refight the great battles between Jedi and Sith for all eternity, girl?” Palpatine demanded. “Or would you rather seize your destiny?”

Kylo was still staring at his weapon and surroundings. “Why?” he asked of no one in particular.

“We won’t be refighting this one,” she said. “Unlike Vader, my side here is clear.” She walked over to Ben and put a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know what this all means.” She gestured at Palpatine. “He doesn’t either. We’ve already beaten him twice in these recreations.”

“Remember in whose place you stand, young Solo,” Palpatine drawled. “Remember his betrayal. That’s what Jedi do. They betray those who trust in them. She is no different.”

Rey raised her eyebrows. “Bargaining now? Is that the way of the Sith?”

Anger flashed and Sidious fired a lightning bolt. Rey twirled out of its way.

“He’s growing weaker, Ben,” Rey assured him. “Whatever this is…”

Kylo tightened his fists, and an audible crack echoed from the hilt of the lightsaber in his hand. The green blade disappeared, and he tossed the broken weapon aside. A walkway above the room trembled as its supports bent slightly.

“I… I can’t.”

Rey stared. “Can’t what?”

“Only the dark side gives you power, Solo! Use it!”

“He’s right!” Ben shouted in despair. “I can only use the dark side here!”

“Because you were already steeped in it, boy!” Palpatine goaded. “Now, release that anger, seize your power, and fulfill your destiny!”

“Or how about we finish him off once and for all,” Rey suggested.

“That is beyond you, girl, and you know it.”

“But not beyond the two of us together,” she announced and stepped forward. “And I _can_ access the light side of the Force.”

With that, she ignited the crimson blade and faced Sidious. “I will hold him off. You don’t need to use the Force.”

Palpatine raised both hands and fired a full lightning blast at Ben. Rey stepped between them, catching it with the lightsaber and then imagining an invisible shield projecting from her hand. Behind her, Ben picked up Luke’s lightsaber and stared at it one more time. Then, resolving, himself, he strode forward.

Palpatine poured more lightning, and tried to again attack Ben, forcing Rey to move and block it. Rey met the Sith Lord’s eyes. In the two previous fights, unless the fight was two on one, Palpatine didn’t seem either concerned or even making a big effort. But now, he was focused, teeth grinding, muscles straining, as he made to pour more and more of the dark side into the room. It seeped from him, touching Rey as a cold, dull, ache in the arms holding up the saber and absorbing the lightning.

_Hurry, Ben_, Rey thought to him.

With Rey keeping herself in between Sidious and Ben, she’d walked up the staicase, around the throne, and was now barely two meters away from Sidious, with the viewport facing Endor behind her. But no matter how much she tried, she was unable to move a hair closer. The dark attack was too powerful, the mental energy coupled with it too great. Doubt crept in. Despite the previous fights, Palpatine had decades of experience sustaining himself with the dark side. She could easily tire out first.

Behind her, Kylo ignited the lightsaber and drew back his arm. The green blade pulsed unsteadily, and the hum from the hilt was dangerously loud. “Strike her down, boy!” Palpatine goaded. “Claim the legacy of the Sith. You will both die otherwise.”

Rey was straining so hard that she was unable to form words. She tried to send a silent thought for Ben to do the right thing.

He swung the blade, shattering the transparisteel viewport. The gust of wind was so sudden that it ripped the lightsaber from Rey’s hand and blew Palpatine off his throne. They tumbled for a fraction of a second, as the lightning poured all around them, stinging her, but then Rey found herself being pulled sideways, and felt Ben clutch her around her waist with one arm while he gripped a pipe on the wall with the other. Sidious, without support, was blown out into space.

“Nooooo!” he shouted, and quickly regained control and started pulling himself back. Rey looked around for something that would help them; they only needed to outlast Palpatine now. Even a Sith Lord couldn’t survive in a vacuum.

And then Rey understood. _This isn’t the real Death Star. This is a construction of the Force. And I can manipulate it._

She closed her eyes and imagined a component familiar to her from Jakku. When she opened them, a small box with a lever materialized on the far wall. Ben stared from it to her. “What the–”

Rey extended her arm and pulled the lever with the Force. Right as Palpatine was about to float back inside through the broken port, emergency bulkheads slammed around it, killing the view, halting the air outflow, and leaving the Galactic Emperor outside in the void. Ben and Rey collapsed onto each other, exhausted beyond ability to stand.

“I hope it’s the last one,” they both said before white light engulfed them again.

* * *

They were back on the wreck of the actual Death Star, rather than a Force recreation. The device with the two holocrons still plugged in remained on the table, as was Palpatine sitting in front of it. But the Sith Lord glared at them, still slightly transparent, and now he appeared paralyzed.

Both Ben and Rey had their own lightsabers in their hands. Red and blue blades ignited and the two simultaneously plunged them into the holocrons powering the resurrection device. Blue pierced the Sith tetrahedron, red the Jedi cube, and sparks fountained from the table.

The lightsaber handle turned hot in Rey’s hands. “Run!” Ben shouted, unnecessarily. They made it five meters before the whole thing exploded.

“Are you alright?” Rey asked first.

Ben nodded. “What the hell happened?”

“The kyber crystals have had enough, I think,” she murmured. There was nothing left of the contraption, the holocrons, or the lightsabers, and a neat spherical cutout on the desk where the explosion occurred. Nor was there any trace of Palpatine, or the darkness that surrounded him.

“He’s… gone?” Ben said.

“Can’t feel him in the Force anymore. And there’s hope that the knowledge of what that resurrection machine was and exactly how it worked died with him.”

Ben groaned. “It better have.”

She sighed. “What now, Supreme Leader?”

He glared back. “Hux probably proclaimed a change by now.”

“And what will you do? Take your place back and resume the galactic conquest?”

“If I do, I will have no choice. That is what the Supreme Leader does. No one in the First Order will accept it if I try to surrender.”

They argued as they made their way back to the surface. “The Resistance won’t take you in either,” she acknowledged. Not seeing a useful path, she pulled out the comlink. “Artoo,” she said. “Come in, Artoo.”

Chirp. “Kind of. Can you fly the X-Wing here?”

Two beeps in reply. “Oh? Well, we’d better listen to it.”

Inquiring whistle. “Yes, I said _we_. I’ll explain later.”

Engines trumpeted as the fighter descended onto the wreckage with Artoo in the back. Rey leapt into the cockpit and fired up the comm system. “Artoo has been monitoring all sorts of comm traffic,” she said. “First Order, Resistance, smugglers. Apparently, something big is going on.”

“Kingdom of Duro?” Ben asked.

“How did you know?”

“Because Hux hates them.” He corrected himself. “He hates them more than most other people.”

She looked at him. “Have you heard of this hyperdrive blocker weapon?”

He shook his head. “This is Hux’s doing.”

“After the blockade of their homeworld, though, the First Order isn’t doing anything. Duro is fighting the Lammo Hegemony, and winning.”

“That is definitely Hux. He’s going to put them on the margin of victory, and then pull it out from under them. Plus, it lets Duros destroy Lammo for him. He despised Snoke’s orders to leave Lammo be.”

“The Resistance needs a way to infiltrate the _Dominion_,” Rey said. “Apparently, every loophole used with the _Supremacy_ has been patched.”

“Not _every_,” Ben said. “I can just go aboard.”

She shook her head. “You will be monitored. There’ll be no way for you to enact any sabotage, and you said you won’t be followed if you surrender.”

And then Ben smiled for what might have been the first time in years. “That’s where you come in. "I’ve got a perfect plan.” He stopped. “Almost perfect. It would be nice if you still had a lightsaber.”

Artoo chirped and a compartment slid open on his dome. A portion of a cylinder emerged. Rey reached out and took it. It was a lightsaber, alright. It was the same one that Kylo had just wielded in the final Force recreation.

“That’s Luke’s,” Ben said, forcing himself to be calm.

“How did you get it?”

The droid chirped. “I assumed you flew to Ach-To. When?”

A reply lifted both their eyebrows. “What? Right now?”

Another chirp. “Shortcut. Uh-huh. And what of my orders to stay. I might have need you.”

The reply was long and melancholic. “How did you know it would take a while?”

Both Ben and Rey jumped at the next whistle. “Luke told you.”

Artoo confirmed. “Impossible. Force Ghosts can’t even communicate with non-Force sensitives, much less droids.”

“That’s a generalization,” Ben said.

“I saw it recently.”

“It can depend on the place. You know there are places more attuned to the Force than others.”

“I suppose so.”

“And Palpatine was using a mechanical contraption to resurrect himself here. That could have had an effect.”

“Or just that Luke and Artoo have been together so long that a bond formed.”

Artoo whistled hopefully. “I see. Well,” she said, clipping the lightsaber on her belt. “Let’s go to your ship out there on the plain. And you can fill me in on this brilliant plan of yours.”

* * *

The _Challenger_ emerged from hyperspace and was instantly battered by meteors.

“What the hell?”

“Shields full!” Daari ordered. “This storm isn’t on any of the charts.”

“No, it’s not,” Caruthers frowned. “There is an asteroid field, but according to surveys, it’s supposed to be mostly large ones. My scans show nothing close by larger than a kilometer.”

“Something wrecked them?”

“Takes a lot of firepower,” Pava said. “What’s the point? Mining means gathering material, not scattering it.”

“Find the biggest intact rock and get us close. We’ll take samples and learn what happened.”

“Can you do it?” Caruthers asked Pava.

Jessika nodded. “But keep an eye on things, Colonel. I really don’t like this.”

The scheme turned out pointless. They had approached the kilometer-sized rock and began maneuvering to land on it when instrument panels flashed with alerts. “Star Destroyer!”

“It’s _Tarkin’s Legacy_,” Daari said.

“How did they know?” Caruthers demanded.

“Nevermind. Jump,” she ordered. Caruthers sighed, but understood, and powered up the hyperdrive. Fighting would only get all of them killed. She got through the barest of calculations, and pulled the lever.

Nothing happened.

“What’s the matter? Did they seed the system with blockers?”

“No. It’s more like a gravity well.”

“That asteroid isn’t enough.”

“Interdiction field?”

“_Resurgent_-class ships don’t have those.”

_Challenger_ jerked. “Tractor beam.”

“Can you break it?”

Pava shook her head. “Here’s where your ships’ being underpowered works against you,” she said dryly.

“I’ll be sure to pass it on to the procurement bureau,” Daari replied with equal sarcasm.

She tapped the intercom. “Crew of the _Challenger_, this is Captain Daari. Abandon ship. Repeat, abanon ship. Get to your escape pods now!”

“What are you doing?”

“My duty,” Daari said. “Don’t worry, we might make it out alive.”

“Just how?”

“We wait till they drag us inside. I overload the reactor and we launch pods. We blow them up, and then send a distress call to General Jade.”

“Unfortunately, there’s a problem with your plan, Captain,” Pava said, and pointed to the scanner. “They’re not pulling us in with the beam. They’re pushing us down.”

“Down…?”

“To the asteroid.”

“They’re trying to crush us?”

“Not at this speed,” Caruthers said. “It’s definitely not First Order style.”

Daari nodded. “Suud, hail them.”

“They’re jamming our comms, ma'am.”

She nodded and sat back down in the captain’s chair. “Are you sure that is _Tarkin’s Legacy_?” she asked. “We know quite well that transponders are fakeable.”

A small thud reverberated through the _Challenger_ before Jessika could answer. “We’re in contact with the asteroid surface.”

There was another, smaller jerk, and several lights on the instrument panel blinked out. “What was that?”

“Engineering here,” Caami’s voice came over the intercom. “Target ion blast near the second port hatch. Fried local electric systems.”

Daari rose. “Armed team to port hatch two, medium gear!” She then activated the comlink. “I’m keeping an open channel. You lose contact, you blow this ship up. Understand?”

“Yes, Captain.” Daari departed the bridge.

It took just over a minute for her to get to the destination. “We’re at port hatch two,” she said. “Caruthers, patch Caami into the circuit.”

“Already done, ma'am.”

“They’re opening it manually.”

“You can do that?” Caruthers asked in surprise.

“Sure,” the engineering officer replied. “If the crew is dead or incapacitated, locking out the rescue team is a bad idea.”

“It’s also means you can’t really lock the ship down.”

“Don’t leave her uncrewed in a hostile port,” Daari replied. “You can’t operate her without at least three crew anyway. Hatch opening. Don’t fire without orders.”

“Crew of the _Challenger_,” a new voice called out in impeccable Duros. “Please stand down. We mean you no harm.”

“Restraining this vessel is a hostile act!” Daari shouted back.

“Information security,” the voice said. “I would like to speak with your captain. We are _not_ the First Order.”

“Caruthers, arm yourself and get down here,” Daari ordered. “Caami, you have the ship.”

“Understood, ma'am.”

“Who the hell are these people?” Pava asked.

“We’re about to find out.”

When she got to the hatch, Caruthers tried to glance inside, but it was a dark void. Daari had picked out two crewmembers to accompany them. “Why do you need me, Captain?”

“Experience,” Daari said. “Come on.”

They stepped aboard. Dim lights came up and they faced an armed squad, though the weapons were not aiming at them. All were armored and helmeted, the armor clearly inspired by Imperial stormtroopers but with touches of its own, and colored light gray instead of white.

The owners of the vessel made no attempt to disarm them, but took positions on all sides as they led them away from the hatch. The corridor lights grew brighter as they moved along it, and Caruthers could see it had been carved from solid rock. No one said anything until the tunnel widened into a larger space, well-lit and full of equipment typical of capital ship stations.

Their escort took off their helmets. Most were blue-skinned red-eyed humanoid aliens, as were the crew at the stations in the chamber. There was a smattering of humans and other species, though, and the person who approached them now looked fully human.

He said something in a language none of them recognized, and the troopers moved off. He then faced Daari. “Are you the captain?”

Daari nodded. “Ruffel Daari, Captain, RDA.”

“I apologize for any unpleasantness. As I said–information security. Vice Admiral Eli Vanto, Chiss Defense Fleet. Welcome aboard the _Thrawn_.”

* * *

“I don’t understand,” Caruthers told Vanto. “_Tarkin’s Legacy_ is right there. She’s a First Order Star Destroyer.”

“Not anymore,” Vanto said. “Though the crew I sent is doing their best to keep up the facade for now.”

“You took her.”

“We did. I must thank the Resistance for their part.”

“What part?”

“One of the things the First Order has emphasized is detection of homing beacons. They have equipment that detects standard beacons very easily, even in the powered-down state. You need some specialized hardware and a rather tricky installation process to get the one you used.”

“Resistance agents put one on _Legacy_ when–”

“My intelligence operatives gave them the beacon in the first place. And installed a backdoor to let us monitor the ship. And thus, we could devise a trap for her.” He smiled.

“What were they doing? We came in the first place because of the weird movements,” Daari said.

“I’m afraid that’s my doing. I used her to observe First Order preparations for the battle at Calperi.”

Daari sighed. “We’ll be all-in against Lammo, and then–”

“Worse than that,” Vanto commented. “The Lammo capital world isn’t a planet, it’s one of three habitable moons orbiting a gas giant, and there are at least twenty other large moons, all of which have massive defense installations. Crossfire everywhere. You could have taken out the defenses with coordinated ground assaults–”

“Except that most of our ground forces are trapped on Duro.”

Vanto nodded. “And then there is a matter of your kingdom’s no longer-secret weapon.”

“Huh?” Caruthers asked.

“Distributed superlaser,” Vanto said. “A clever technique. But do you know _why_ the Empire went with a full Death Star rather than do what you did?”

Ruffel frowned. “They didn’t care if one person could give an order for planetary destruction.”

“Perhaps,” Vanto conceded. “But there is also a technical reason. No matter how well you program your ships’ positions, they always move in relation to each other. And because they have mass, this causes fluctuations in the gravitational field in the process of firing the superlaser. You can’t get the rigidity of the Death Star firing dish with spaced out ships.”

“So?”

“I am not a physicist. I can only tell you what happens, not how, or why. The gravitational disbalance can be exploited by a modification in the target’s energy shield. The result transmutes the energy imparted by the beam into gravitational waves, and because most ships don’t have anything to contain that kind of attack… it explodes. You inflict damage on the target, but also on everything within a radius proportional to the energy you used on the beam. And the center of the explosion isn’t at the impact point on the target, it’s at the point where the beams converge, so you hurt yourself more than the enemy. I’ve watched what you did at Viwen. If that ship had the modifications, everyone in that battle would be dead.”

“Shit,” Daari said.

“They found this out early in the process of original Death Star design,” he said. “_Tarkin’s Legacy_ was testing the shield adjustments here and in other systems.” He brought up two holograms. “As you see, the asteroids didn’t fare too well.”

“I need to warn General Jade.”

He nodded. “But do it in person. The First Order is too good at cracking ciphers.”

“Alright,” Daari said.

“Good. Now, what your Alliance’s plan for dealing with the hyperspace blockers?”

Caruthers and Daari exchanged looks. “Why do you think there is a plan?”

“Because if there isn’t, everything you do is pointless,” he said. “General Leia and King Gelemod are not the sort to send people to death without hope.”

Daari gave Caruthers a nod. “We want to reverse their pattern recognition signal, and then destroy the control system.”

Vanto smiled. “Sneaking aboard _Dominion_. How?”

“I’m not the person to ask,” Daari said. “I wouldn’t do much good there, so they won’t send me.”

“Going to use the fake _Tarkin’s Legacy_, no doubt,” Vanto replied.

“Speaking of it, if two ships with the same transponders are in the system, the blockers restrain both,” Caruthers said.

“Good to know. Tell you what,” he decided. “How about you use the real _Tarkin’s Legacy_ instead?”

“You are willing to do that?” Daari asked.

“I haven’t decided yet on the best way to use the surprise against them,” he said. “This seems like a good option. If you agree to go aboard, that is.”

“And what will you do with this… asteroid ship?”

“I’ll be there,” he assured them. “But I can’t force you or your crew, or your leadership to trust my people with whatever specialists they need to modify the blocker software.”

“We’ll do it,” Daari decided.

“Excellent.” He tapped the comm on his desk. “Vanto to _Legacy_.”

“Admiral,” a female voice came over in accented Basic.

“Plan Mandragora, with modifications,” he said. “I’m releasing the _Challenger_ crew back to their ship. Take them into your hangar bay, then set course for the Viwen system. In case of hostilities, release _Challenger_ and head for Rendezvous Three.”

“Understood, sir,” the captain replied, and the comm clicked.

“Well, Captain Daari,” Vanto rose. “I trust there will be no attempts to blow up _Legacy_ from within.”

“Do you have listening devices aboard _Challenger_?” Caruthers demanded.

“No, but you did keep the comlink channel with your chief engineer open all this time, and its one designed for speed of transmission rather than secure encryption. It’s a natural thought, anyway. I hope we meet again. May warrior’s fortune go with you.”

* * *

Ben nearly collided with a Star Destroyer when his TIE silencer emerged from hyperspace. The capital ship was scorched, with fires raging across the hull, and he had to perform several tight maneuvers past the pieces of debris and tongues of flame before putting some distance between himself and the ship’s surface.

He opened a comm channel. “_Dominion_, this is Supreme Leader. I’ve suffered damage and am coming in–”

An X-Wing popped from hyperspace behind him, and also had to skirt the Star Destroyer.

“–under pursuit,” he finished. “Stand by to open docking bay shield.”

“Understood, Supreme Leader,” Hux’s voice held a slight snarl. “What is going on out there? First _Tarkin’s Legacy_, then you–”

“The Resistance is getting bold, General. It’s time we deal with them.”

Red bolts streaked past him. _Careful there_, he thought to Rey.

_We want it to look real._

_Too real._

Ben accelerated towards the docking bay. As if ignoring his comments, Rey fired two proton torpedoes. He twirled the fighter away from one, and hit another with his lasers. But the torpedo he dodged zoomed forward ahead of him, struck the side of the Mega Destroyer, and exploded. The shield protecting the docking bay fell.

Instantly, a blast door started swinging shut. Ben fired his thrusters on full to get inside the bay. Rey, behind, did the same, and clipped her wing as she made it through the last gap, causing the X-Wing to go into a spin. Both ships crashed onto the hangar floor, sliding down with showers of sparks, wrecking equipment and causing crew, droids, and stormtroopers to jump out of their way.

Rey leapt out of the cockpit, igniting the green lightsaber. Ben ripped a riot baton out a trooper’s hands with the Force, summoning it as he rushed to meet her. The weapons clashed and the two danced across the hangar floor.

It was part of a plan, and he was quite certain neither of them intended to hurt the other. But they had to make it look real, so both made every strike with full force, relying on the other to be able to parry or dodge, and not aiming for vital areas. Rey, appropriate for a Jedi and physically smaller, mostly defended and gave ground. Finally, when she was about fifteen meters from the hangar bulkhead, a turbolift cabin came up the shaft behind her. Rey leapt backwards, landing on top of the machine and rising beyond his reach and quickly, out of sight.

Ben smashed a crate with the baton, then broke the weapon in half on his knee. Fury on his face, he strode up to a stormtrooper officer.

“Find her.”

“Yes, Supreme Leader.”

He whipped out a comlink. “Status report, General.”

“_Tarkin’s Legacy_ is docking into the internal bay for repairs. Two minutes, and we’ll be underway. Rest of the fleet is already in hyperspace.”

“Understood, General. I’ll be on the bridge shortly.” _As soon as I get my spare lightsaber from my quarters to kill you with_, he thought. _Good luck_, he wished to Rey in the Force.


	33. Enterprise 11

_Absolution_ was as ready as she could be when they emerged in the Calperi system. Which was nowhere near ready enough.

As expected, the Duros had hemmed the Lammo fleet and were besieging the capital moon, but the First Order, vastly outnumbering both forces combined, had arrived soon after.

“They’ve already deployed hyperspace blockers,” the sensor station reported.

“It’s win or die,” Cardinal said. “_Enterprise_, status on _Tarkin’s Legacy_?”

“They’re inside,” Nog reported. “Apparently, the deception worked for now.”

“Launch fighters,” Cardinal ordered.

Instead of an acknowledgment, though, an alarm blared. “Sir, launch control reports–”

“What, Ensign?” Cardinal snarled.

“Impossible–”

“_What is happening?_”

“People appearing underneath our launch bay! Just appearing!”

The ship shook. “They’re inside! Wrecking everything!”

“Finn, take charge of security detachments.” Cardinal shook his head. “Admiral Nog, apparently your technology has been stolen.”

“Understood. They can’t beam through shields though, or use it with their own shields up. You got unlucky.”

“Thanks a lot,” Cardinal snapped.

“Another group of troopers appearing. Looks like they can do two companies at a time.”

“Close the launch bay. Good to know they won’t beam in a division.” He nodded at Finn. “Go.”

* * *

On the bridge of the _Enterprise_, Leia Organa suddenly rose. “Did you just say they need to bring their shields down to use the transporter?”

“Yes. We’ve detected several seconds without shields both times they beamed spacetroopers to the vicinity of _Absolution_.”

“That means you can beam someone aboard in that period.”

Captain Ferarro turned to her. “It’s risky. What do you have in mind?”

“Beam me inside the flagship,” she said.

“But you command the Resistance!”

“I’m not really needed here.” She activated the comlink. “Organa to Dameron.”

“Dameron here,” Poe replied.

“You’re in command until I report back.”

“General–”

“That’s right. _General Dameron_,” she emphasized. “I’m ready. As as you spot the opportunity, send me there.”

“But… why?” Nog inquired.

“A feeling,” she admitted. “I need to be there.”

“Your spider-sense?” the operations officer asked.

“What?”

“Classical reference. Never mind.” She tapped the combadge. “Chief Kominn, can you do this?”

“Yes, ma'am. Assuming the _Dominion_ does drop the shield again.”

“They’re doing so now! More spacetroopers!”

“Absolution hasn’t fully shut the bay yet!”

“Kommin, energize!”

And with that, Leia vanished off the _Enterprise_‘s bridge in a swirl of golden light.

* * *

“Supreme Leader,” Hux greeted Kylo from the bridge of the _Dominion_. “The Duros believe Lammo planetary defenses are in poor shape, and they only have to hammer down their fleet. We will suprise them and their Resistance allies soon.”

Kylo nodded and walked around the tactical hologram. “Is that the _Absolution_?”

Hux smiled at that and gestured to a man in a plain uniform without rank markings. “You haven’t met Voss Torel, Supreme Leader. He provided us with the secret of enemy matter teleporter, and we’ve used it successfully. Fifth Battalion is aboard and will soon take it back from the traitors.”

“They can’t escape?”

“We’ve cut off the system. Only our ships can use hyperspace here.”

“Good. Have you found the Jedi girl?”

“No, Supreme Leader.”

An alarm rang out. “General, Repair Bay Two is offline!”

“What do you mean, offline?”

“No power, no sensors.”

“Get me someone on the ground there!”

The comm officer began rapidly trying channel after channel, getting more frustrated as he got mostly static. Finally managing to get a hold on someone, he nodded at Hux.

“What the hell is going on?”

“It’s _Tarkin’s Legacy_, sir. Troops came out of her and are firing on us!”

A blaster shot came over the comm, and there was silence.

“Contain them!” Hux ordered. “Reinforce the engineering section!” He turned to Kylo. “I have an idea, Supreme Leader. Let’s surprise them. We can use the matter transporter to take you right to the _Legacy_’s bridge.”

“I don’t think, so, General,” Kylo said.

Hux grinned. “Too bad.” Kylo turned, ignited the lightsaber and swung at Hux, but it was too late. Voss Torel tapped the control, and Kylo Ren vanished from the bridge.

He wouldn’t be going over to _Tarkin’s Legacy_, either.

* * *

Ben was surrounded by darkness worse than any he’d ever experienced. He was also falling down, air rushing by. He reached out with the Force to get a sense of his surroundings.

And got nothing.

He tried to feel for Rey somewhere on the ship.

Nothing.

Fear gripped him and he screamed, plummeting down. He drew his lightsaber, but the grip was clumsy, and he dropped it. It fell faster than him, with his arms and legs spread out. He heard the clank below and closed his eyes as he prepared for impact.

_So this is how it ends. Rey, kill Hux for me._

Instead of a deadly crash, though, he felt the wind in his ears slow down and stop. He was still in the air, but no longer falling. Instead, he felt a gentle downward tug, and he righted himself before drawing an emergency glowrod and igniting it.

A pair of hands were extending towards him, guiding him down. The person was dressed in black and covered in a hood, but Ben instantly knew who it was. He would have recognized that ring anywhere. She released him when he was about a foot off the ground, and he stumbled, unable to process the third shock in less than a minute.

His rescuer took off her hood, revealing the first face he’d ever known. General Leia Organa had picked up his lightsaber and clipped it on her belt before striding towards him.

“Mother–”

She slapped him.

He stepped back and blinked several times. “I guess I deserved that.”

“You do not want to get what you deserve, Ben,” she admonished. “But then, I don’t want you to get what you deserve, either.” She looked him over. “What happened to you?”

He reached out and was still unable to feel her, Rey, anyone else in the Force. He tried to pull a loose bolt from a nearby bulkhead and couldn’t. “I can’t access the Force.”

“I won’t ask.”

“It’s the matter teleporter from this Federation,” he said. “Hux used it on me. He betrayed me–”

“Are you surprised?”

“No.”

“I came here by teleporter, too, and as you’ve just seen, I can use the Force as always.”

“Rey’s here,” he said. “We destroyed the spirit of Palpatine, and she’ll help your people find the control to the hyperspace blockers.”

Leia raised her eyebrows. “Really?”

“He had a way to resurrect himself.”

“Good. There’s still the First Order. Or are you just going to tell them to stand down?”

“Not how it works, mother. I was planning on killing Hux, though.”

“Then we better do it, Ben.”

“How? I no longer have the Force.”

“First, the Force is with all of us. Second, your father never could use it and he’s pulled off capers that make this look like a leisurely stroll. And third, I’m here.” She tapped the lightsaber on her belt. “Come on. You know how it works.”

“Hux can just use the transporter on me again.”

She smiled. “He _stole_ the tech. I’ve got it from those who made it.” She tapped a button on a small badge on her chest. “As soon as we saw they had it, they gave this scrambler. Stay close to me, Ben, and you’ll be safe.”

* * *

Enemy spacetroopers had pushed from the docking bay through the corridors, and were nearly at main engineering. Finn was unable to gather enough of the _Absolution_’s stormtroopers before they got to the vital area, and had to start a firefight outnumbered. Rose joined him, along with some of her crew, armed with blasters.

“I need more troops on the engineering deck now!” he yelled into his comlink. He fired, and a well-placed bolt fell a spacetrooper. The specialized armor, while making them rather clumsy, was tougher than the standard version, and required precise hits to do damage.

“Is that… a battle droid?” Rose asked incredulously.

Finn peered through the smoke. “Looks like one. Odd. First Order doesn’t–”

“Surrender, traitors!” a voice shouted, and Finn gasped instinctively. So did several of his soldiers. “But I thought–”

“It’s a trick. It has to be.” He dispatched several bolts. The droid evaded them. Doubt began to creep up Finn’s spine. The movement was familiar…

The droid activated an energy shield, causing bolts to bounce off it. The First Order troops formed up behind it and advanced, putting down covering fire.

“Fall back!” Finn ordered, and activated the comlink. “Captain Cardinal, Phasma is here.”

“What the hell?” Cardinal demanded. “You said–”

“They made a droid body, but it’s her voice and her movements. It’s her, or something based on her.”

“Brain transplant. Most such experiments fail.”

“This one didn’t! And if we don’t do something about her, she’ll take engineering!”

“Understood. Tell your troops to hold on to something!”

Finn knew when there was no time for explanations. He passed on the instructions, gripped a blast door handle with one arm and pulled Rose to himself with the other.

There was a powerful yank and he almost let go, sliding sideways down the corridor. Phasma’s troopers, unprepared, were thrown back in the opposite direction, and even Phasma herself was hurled twenty meters before her droid legs pierced the floor plating and stabilized her.

The pull disappeared as abruptly as it began. “What was that?”

“Toned down inertial dampeners and threw the ship into a spin,” Cardinal said. “Not pleasant, but it works.”

“For now. Follow me!” he ordered. “We need to keep them off engineering.”

But Phasma and her troopers were putting out a murderous hail of blaster fire, which Finn had to constantly seek cover from. At least a firefight erupted at the far end of the corridor, keeping some troopers busy. But Phasma had very quickly regained ground, and Finn knew she wouldn’t be tricked again by the spinning trick.

“PHASMA!” a new voice roared. Finn and Rose turned to see Captain Cardinal, unexpectedly arrived from the bridge. The captain lifted a portable rocket launcher and fired.

The explosion produced a blinding flash of of light and tossed everyone back. Finn came to in a few moments, ringing in his ears. The ringing got louder, and when he looked up, he saw Phasma crawling across the ceiling. One of the droid legs had been torn off and lay on the floor below. Before Finn got up, she pounced on Cardinal, pinning him down and smashing.

His mentor, his captain, his friend was going to die. Finn looked around for something, anything he could do. A bolt from a rifle bounced off Phasma’s droid head uselessly. Everyone who could help was battling spacetroopers some distance away.

And then he spotted a possibility. “Rose, can you take control of that hatch from here?”

Rose looked where he was pointing. “That’s an escape pod!” she said in outrage. “You can’t!”

“Can you?”

“Of course.” She pulled out her datapad and tapped a few keys. “Done. Why?”

“Finn to bridge. On my command, turn off art-grav for two seconds.”

“Understood, Commander.”

Phasma had already rendered a bloody gash in Cardinal’s torso and was about to strike again with a sharp edge popped from one of her droid arms when Finn ran up, gripped the droid body, and used the full strength of his legs to pull her off the captain. His arms ached under the tremendous weight. “Now!” he shouted at the comlink. “Rose, hatch!”

He let go the moment the weight disappeared and kicked Phasma while she was in mid-air. The droid body hurled down the corridor, with Finn flying in the opposite direction. The two seconds he’d asked for were nearly up when she flew through the open hatch and into the escape pod.

“Launch!” he shouted at Rose as the gravity returned and dropped and rolled to the floor. Rose nodded, and worked her pad. Phasma was moving inside, but the hatch slammed, and in a moment, they heard the whoosh of a pod launch.

Finn picked up the comlink. “Escape pod E-228 just launched. Destroy it.”

“Yes, sir.”

He and Rose rushed up to Cardinal and gasped at the blood. “Medic–”

“No,” the captain breathed. “Is she gone?”

Finn drew the comlink again. “Report.”

“Escape pod E-228 has been destroyed.”

Finn nodded. “We did it.”

Cardinal smiled. “Thank you… Captain.”

“Sir?”

But Cardinal said nothing more. Finn knelt next to the body, and had to wipe tears off his face. “No–”

Rose squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

He nodded and forced to lift himself, then spoke into the comlink. “Any spacetroopers remaining?”

“Negative, sir. All killed or captured.”

“Good work. Stand down from internal security alert.” He turned to Rose. “I need to return to the bridge.”

“Should I come with you?” she offered.

He sighed. No matter what he wanted, he was responsible for all the crew of this ship now, and her part in the battle, which they had to win. Rose had to be the engineer now.

“I will be alright,” he assured her.

“I sure hope so,” she said, and gave him a quick kiss. “Captain.”

* * *

Lieutenant Paige Tico, Science Officer of the USS _Delta Quadrant_, hated being protected. Arguing with the Chiss company commander proved useless despite the initial relief the woman expressed when the Universal Translator proved to work, and she didn’t need to use elementary Basic to communicate.

“You’re the one who’s been studying this tech. You need to make it to the data core alive.”

In practice, that meant that several Chiss troopers already hadn’t, ambushed by stormtroopers in the corridors as they pushed away from the repair bay where the captured _Tarkin’s Legacy_ had infiltrated and where they had disabled all the equipment with ion blasts.

“I’ve given instructions–”

“Things never work exactly as you plan,” the major cut off.

And so, Paige was had a combat suit of her own, plus a wall of armored and armed bodies around her. If she’d been a Vulcan, the logic might have been sufficient. She wasn’t.

_I should have asked Rose to come,_ she thought. Figuring out how to deal with a newly found branch of the family let them both enjoy themselves. _I doubt she’d leave her boyfriend, though_.

A chirp from her datapad pulled her out of her thoughts. “In here,” she pointed to a door on their left.

“Stand back,” one of the troopers said, and taking off something off his belt, tossed it forward. The object attached to the door with a metallic clang and exploded. The door disappeared, apparently turned into a cloud of smoke.

Immediately after, seven other door opened nearby, some in places where it didn’t even look like there were doors. Out of each stepped a black-robed masked figure, backed up by a squad of stormtroopers. Blasters came up all around them.

Then the black figures reached for their belts and pulled out weapons. Seven red lightsaber blades ignited at once.

“My name is Runo Ren,” the lead figure said. “You may surrender, or you can die.”


	34. Enterprise 12

“Runo Ren reports that the infiltrators reached Control Core 3.”

“Excellent,” Hux smiled. “Tell him to report when he’s dealt with them.”

“Yes, sir.”

“The Duros have finished off the Lammo fleet and are assembled around the capital moon. They’re maneuvering to assist the Resistance.”

“Not for long. Stand by to activate Lammo stationary defenses.”

“Standing by.”

“Shit.”

“What is it, Torel?”

“The teleporter. Someone is trying to disable bridge controls. If they take it–”

Hux gulped. The prospect of being beamed out into space without warning wasn’t appealing at all. “Take a detachment and handle it.”

Torel left without a word.

“Defense stations, fire on the Duros fleet.”

Several alarms rang out from tactical stations. “Sir, a number of asteroids emerged from hyperspace!”

“Asteroids?”

“There are explosions! They’ve filled the system with rock fragments!”

Hux frowned. “Not so big that shields can’t handle–”

“They’re broadcasting Duros sensor profiles, sir! Thousands of them. Our targeting is out of whack.”

“Asteroids changing orbits–sir, they’re going to impact the defense installations!”

“Which ones?”

“All of them!”

“Duros fleet approaching.”

“Another asteroid above us. Big one!”

“It’s firing!”

Hux clenched his fists. “Contact Phasma. I need a progress report on _Absolution_. We still outgun them. Manuever us for a full dorsal volley.”

“Against Duros or the Resistance?”

“The Resistance. Specifically, the ship they stole. Target the _Punisher_.”

* * *

Voss Torel walked into the teleporter chamber and found the operations crew he’d left missing. Inspecting the console, he found the link to the bridge control physically severed. He began a diagnostic to see if there had been any sabotage when a shot rang out and he had to instinctively roll away from a heavy blaster bolt.

When he leapt up on his feet, he was astonished to see that his enemy contrived to bring in an AT-PT into the tight quarters. More bolts screamed by. Anger took over, and the lightsaber blade popped from his artificial arm. He tossed aside the next several bolts and leapt forward, smashing the lightsaber against the pilot’s viewscreen.

The blade only found empty air behind the glass, and then he fell as the vehicle suddenly lost balance. He’d caught a glimpse of a white lightsaber, and then he flipped backwards to avoid being crushed by the AT-PT’s cockpit. The next moment, he found himself facing two lightsaber blades and their familiar bearer.

“Ahsoka Tano,” he said.

“Voss Torel,” she replied, and struck. He parried, tried to get through her block, but was stymied by the second blade.

“This shouldn’t be possible!” he shouted at her as the duel continued. “I still have the Force, and you lost it in this Federation contraption years ago!”

“Perhaps I regained it,” she declared. “Perhaps I’m just better at swordplay. Perhaps you’re out of touch.” Her blades spun with deadly precision, parrying his every blow. He could push her, force a retreat, but never found a gap in her defenses he could exploit, and she didn’t give him one by going on the attack.

“You can’t regain it,” he said.

“I’ve been to the Unknown Regions,” she answered over a series of blade clashes. “I’ve learned a lot.”

Without warning, he used his left hand to draw a blaster and shoot. Ahsoka dodged sideways, and cut the barrel with the tip of her lightsaber before he could get off a second shot. With her other saber, she parried his strike, and backed off several steps.

“You can’t do this forever.”

“Says who?”

“I can summon help.”

“So can I,” she retorted.

She retreated a bit more, up one step to the heart of the teleportation machine and the platform where ideally, one of the endpoints of the process would be. He only realized what she was doing when she tapped a button on her wrist and vanished right before he swung his lightsaber through empty space.

“That’s right, cowardly Jedi,” he snarled. “Run.”

He began to rise, and gasped as two glowing white shafts emerged from his chest. Then the pain hit, and he screamed.

“Wrong on all counts, Torel. I’m no coward, I’m no Jedi, and I didn’t run.”

Ahsoka stepped away from Torel’s body and stood by the transporter control console. She selected a setting, tapped a few keys, and activated the machine. Six humanoid-sized black cylinders appeared on the platform. Ahsoka went to them, opened a panel on each, and tapped in a command. Then she opened an access hatch and dropped down the maintenance tunnel. She waited, looking at her chrono. An explosion rumbled half a minute later.

She sighed in relief and drew her comlink. “First Order transporter destroyed,” she reported.

“Acknowledged, Fulcrum. Do you need evac?”

“Negative. I’ll handle myself.”

“You’d better.”

* * *

“Another Resistance ship latched on to our surface! They’re deploying troops on the outer hull, targeting sensors, shield projectors–sir, they’re Mandalorians!”

Hux peered at display. Helmeted, armored figures were indeed working the outside of the _Dominion_‘s hull, attacking vital points. One of them raised their rifle and fired. The bolt headed straight towards them, and then the screen went dark.

Hux managed a grim smile. “Our sensors can detect beskar armor. Use the teleporter to send them as far away as possible.”

“Sir, the transporter unit is no longer operational. It’s not present in the control system, and sensors report nothing from where it used to be.”

“Nothing?”

“I’m sending an scanning droid in.” The technician paused. “Sir, you need to see this.”

Growling, Hux strolled up. Hot flames were pouring out of the door where Torel had set up his copy of the Federation machine. The droid got within five meters, and its vitals were already in the red; it would cease functioning within minutes. No person or mechanism could have surived the inferno inside.

“Hux to Torel,” he said on the intercom, and received nothing.

“Hux to Torel,” he repeated. No response.

“_Ent_–_Punisher_ is in sights for dorsal volley.”

“Fire!”

The bridge door opened, and gave Hux the biggest shock of his life as Kylo Ren strode in, cloak torn, face caked with dried blood, and rage in his every facial muscle.

“Out!” he shouted at the bridge crew. “All of you!”

Fear made them obey quickly, and Ren moved to lock down the escapes as they left. “Anything you want to say, General,” he snarled.

“You should be dead.”

“Fate has decreed otherwise.”

Hux snorted. “Did fate also intervene and stop the machine from depriving you of your sorcery?”

“You mean that was deliberate?”

“Torel knew it was possible, and adapted it.”

“Where is Torel?”

“Dead.”

“Painfully, I hope.”

“Not as painfully as you will be!” He drew his blaster and fired five circular stun bolts. Ren even managed to avoid getting hit by the first two, but then three in a row impacted his legs and chest. He fell down, unconscious.

With his thumb, he switched the weapon’s setting to kill, and aimed for Ren’s head. A familiar _snap-hiss_ sound hit his ears and he turned towards it and fired.

Princess Leia moved and caught the bolt on the blade of Ren’s red lightsaber. Hux gasped as the two energy shafts collided and the bolt bounced back where it came from. It hit him in the chest, and pain brought him down on his knees. Forcing himself with sheer will, he raised the blaster on Leia again and squeezed the trigger. She deflected the fire again, and some of the new bolts erupted in new sources of pain on his body.

“Keep away from my son,” was the last thing Hux ever heard.

* * *

A slab of metal dropped off the ceiling and crushed Runo Ren underneath. A figure in white dropped from the hole, and a green lightsaber flared up while Runo’s weapon flew up into the newcomer’s hand and also ignited. A blue and white astromech droid lowered itelf into the corridor on manuevering jets and approached.

“Go!” the Chiss major ordered Paige, pointing to the door. “We’ll protect you.”

Paige didn’t even try to argue. In the doorway, the astromech joined her, and gave a loud whistle.

She raised her eyebrow. _Surely the Universal Translator can handle some machine audio code with no problems?_

Apparently not, as the next beep sequence indicated. “Fine,” she said, hoping the droid could understand her. “I need to place a special patch on the computer core in there,” she announced.

Behind them, the cacophony of blasters and lightsabers got louder, and she heard a loud female voice shout, “I’ve killed Snoke, you amateurs!”

“Lying Jedi bitch!” someone retorted.

“Kylo told us the truth!”

“I doubt that!” The shout was followed by a really loud lightsaber clash.

“What’s that about?” Paige asked, but only got incomprehensible chirps in reply. The computer station was shut down, and when she attempted powering it up, its screen lit up for less than ten seconds and demanded an access code. When she failed to input one, it shut down.

“Son of a–”

The droid extended an arm and put a welding torch to the console. “Hey!” Paige shouted. “You can’t do that! We might destroy the thing, and needs to happen _after_ we reverse the pattern signal to the hyperspace blockers.”

The droid produced a confident trill and continued welding. Paige frowned, and tried to pull its arm off the console. The droid popped out another arm and gave her a mild electric shock. She yelped and jerked away.

With a triumphant whistle, the droid pulled off a square section of metal and inserted another attachment inside. The light in its head began to change color as he worked, and several seconds later, the console activated again. When the code screen came up, the droid gave more chirps, and numbers appeared in the entry slots. Then the access screen vanished and was replaced with the control panel.

Paige had little time to be astonished. “Thanks,” she patted the droid on the dome, and pulled out her padd and system interface. She didn’t see anywhere she could plug in, though, until the droid pointed its arm into the hole it cut.

“I see,” she murmured, and made the connection. “Alright, let’s get on this.” It would take some time for the program to churn and give her access, and she looked back to the door. Most of the Chiss troopers moved inside the chamber, and the young woman stood in the doorway, blocking shots and parrying strikes with her lightsabers.

Her padd pinged. “Got it!” She triggered the software patch. “Tico to _Legacy_,” she commed. “It’s done.”

“Understood. Stand by.”

“Good work,” the commander of the security company said.

“If it does what it should. The _Enterprise_ will want to test it out before we destroy this core.”

“Walkers!” someone shouted.

“Damn. Trouble?” she asked the Jedi.

“Difficulty,” she admitted.

“We can use the transporter.”

The major sighed. “I’ve listened to the briefing. You can’t beam through shields, and the _Domion’s_ are still up.”

“But the _Legacy_ is _inside_ _Dominion_”, Paige replied.

“And it doesn’t have your teleporters installed.”

“No, but neither does _Absolution_. So when I came over, I used a shuttle. A _Federation_ shuttle.”

The major blinked. “Can you do it?”

“I’ve just accessed an unfamiliar computer system and fundamentally changed its function. Give me _some_ credit. I can access _our_ technology and make it do what it’s supposed to.”

“_Legacy_ to Tico. _Enterprise_ reports successful hyperdrive operation for Resistance and blockage for First Order.”

“Demolitions!” the major shouted. “Rig it!”

The specialist team of Chiss troopers began placing explosive charges on the computer core. Paige tied her combadge to her Padd and powered up the Starfleet shuttle sitting in _Tarkin’s Legacy_’s bay. “Major, I will begin beaming your troopers out, four at a time. You, me, her and Ensign Si'la'duo,” she pointed at the leader of the demolition team, “will be last.”

The Jedi tossed one of the Knights’ of Ren lightsabers into the corridor, and got a bright flash and shrieks. “Plasma conduit burst,” the major said. “Clever.”

Paige frantically worked the console. As the Chiss troopers were taken away, pressure on the remaining ones mounted. The Jedi alone, no matter how good, probably wouldn’t be able to block everything.

She didn’t try, though. When a squad of stomtroopers near the doorway stepped aside to let an AT-PT through, she turned to the major. “Lay down intensive fire!” she said.

“Do it!”

The troopers, some taking up a blaster rifle in each hand, opened up. The AT-PT shrugged off the fire, but when it fired back, the woman blocked the shots. Then she hurled her lightsaber, spinning, and cut off one of the walker’s legs. It collapsed in the doorway, forming a crude barricade, and the weapon flew back into her hand.

“Charges set!”

Paige beamed out the last of the supporting troopers, and began the lock on process for the Jedi, the major, Si'la'duo, and herself. Stormtroopers and Knights of Ren stormed over the walker, and put everyone in the cross fire.

“Detonation, two seconds!”

“Energizing!”

The computer core chamber vanished and was replaced by the interior of a Starfleet shuttle. The Jedi woman collapsed as soon as she materialized next to Paige.

“Detonation confirmed,” Si'la'duo said.

“Are you alright?” Paige asked the Jedi.

She nodded, breathing heavily. “Just exhausted.”

Something shook around them. “What’s happening?”

“We’ve overstayed our welcome,” the major replied. “Captain is going to blast us out of the _Dominion_. Brace yourselves.”

* * *

“They really don’t like defectors, do they?” Ferraro asked, looking at the swarm of TIE fighters pounding _Tarkin’s Legacy_ as she pulled away from the Dominion. Several Resistance squadrons were on their way.

“Sir, report from forward starboard hangar. They’ve picked up an escape pod with General Organa aboard. And… her son.”

Nog turned his head. “She took him prisoner?”

“I think he came willingly.”

“Take him to the brig. Have General Organa come up here.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Fleet emerging to port!”

“Friendly?”

“More Duros cruisers, sir. Looks like it. They’ve opened fire on the First Order.”


	35. Enterprise 13

The hologram emerging on the bridge of the _Covenant_ was one Mara expected, which didn’t make it good. “General Jade,” Noripel Daar drawled. “I am assuming command of all Duros forces in the system.”

“You took an awful risk, General,” Mara said. “The hyperspace blockers have been disabled, but you couldn’t have known that when you departed. You might have trapped the entire home fleet here and left the Kingdom defenseless.”

“As if a human gives a damn about the Kingdom,” Daar snarled. “To the fleet. Formation Sigma, position 233-98-26.”

“General, no!”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s not going to work. Our multi-ship superlaser’s inherent instability leaves room for a counter.”

“I never head of it?”

“Why would you? Most who worked on the tech have been dead for decades. But it exists, and the First Order knows about it.”

“How convenient.”

“What?”

“True colors shine in peril, Jade! You won’t be permitted to spend Duros blood to preserve human lives!”

“I provide the Kingdom information about its enemies, General.”

“You are the Kingdom’s enemy.”

Mara watched as cruisers, from both among the newcomers and her fleet, began maneuver into a circular formation. She shut down the comm to Daar and opened one to the _Enterprise_. “I suggest everyone jump away, Admiral.”

A new voice popped in. “He’s going to fire.”

“Who are you?”

“Vice Admiral Vanto, aboard the _Thrawn_. I still have a couple of rocks in hyperspace. I can bring them into the path of the beam, if you want.”

She understood. “That’s how you took out the defense grid.”

“With hyperspace blockers, the asteroids remained in system after jumping into hyperspace. Hux didn’t even realize that taking away long distance travel gave us a cloaking device.”

“Will it help?”

“It’ll buy time.”

“Do it, then. Jade out.”

“Comm signal from Daar.”

“Send it through.”

“Why isn’t the _Covenant_ taking her place in formation?”

“Because I have no intention of having my crew destroyed for your folly, General.”

“I gave an order.”

“Remember why we use separate ships? So that the power is not all on the same vessel. Not all in _your_ irresponsible hands, General.”

“You will be court-martialed.”

“Look around you,” she said. Most smaller Resistance ships had already jumped away. _Enterprise_ and _Absolution_ were still fighting, though they pulled back from the _Dominion_, engaging only the Star Destroyers on the periphery.

“Cowardly humans,” Daar dismissed. “Fire.”

Beams from the cruisers, joined up into a superlaser, and sped towards the First Order flagship. There was a flicker, and the beam shattered a kilometer-wide asteroid that popped out of hyperspace in its path. That cut off the green light, and the weakened remnant impacted on the hull of the _Dominion_, but was absorbed by her shields.

“Reorient! Destroy that asteroid ship!”

“Now you’re going to fire on an ally?” Mara demanded.

“Anyone who keeps me from destroying the First Order is no ally.”

“We’ve _won_, General. They’re stuck in whatever systems they’re currently in, and our coalition can sweep them up at will.”

She was ignored. “Fire!”

But before the new beam formed, _Thrawn_ vanished into hyperspace. The superlaser pierced empty space, and Daar screamed with rage.

“Retarget _Dominion_ and fire at will!”

* * *

_Challenger_ dodged debris from the battle, scanning for escape pods with lifesigns and dragging them in with tractor beams. Caruthers had shut everything around her out, concentrating on flying. They still had some shields, but not enough to withstand a major collision.

“Prepare for jump–next time Daar fires, the rejection will wreck this system,” Captain Daari said.

“Understood,” the navigator worked the hyperdrive console.

“There are still people out there!”

“Everyone who stays will die. Prepare to jump!”

“General Jade on the line.”

“Captain Daari,” Jade said without preamble. “Special transmission incoming.”

“What the–”

There was a chirp in a tone Caruthers never heard before. Captain Daari spent a few seconds in consideration before giving the order. “Patch me through to General Daar, and broadcast our conversation.”

“I see the human infection got to you, Princess,” Daar’s hologram gestured at Caruthers.

“Not anymore,” Daari said. “One hour ago, my father was struck down by a First Order assassin. Do not fire the superlaser, General. I order you as _your Queen_.”

Daar blinked, and Ruffel continued. “All Duros ships, I forbid you to fire the superlaser on the _Dominion_.”

The ring formation was broken as a number of cruisers left it. Caruthers used the moment to reconcentrate on the flying and rescue operations, but then was interrupted again.

Something changed. “He’s broadcasting the hologram of our bridge to the fleet.”

“So?” the Princess–no, the Queen asked.

“All Duros vessels, I submit that our queen is under duress. You see the human with her. Not even one of our supposedly loyal humans formally enlisted in our Army. No, a foreigner human. We will rescue her, but first, we must neutralize the threat of the First Order. If you are loyal to the Kingdom, return to formation and destroy the _Dominion_.”

“He doesn’t need anyone to return to formation,” the navigator said. “Thirteen cruisers never moved. That’s plenty!”

“Contact Jade and Nog!”

“Online, ma'am–er, Your Majesty.”

“Never mind. General, Admiral, he’s going to fire–now!”

“Understood.”

“All Duros vessels, jump to hyperspace!”

The Resistance already received the order, and the remaining patrolling fighters quickly vanished one by one, followed by the _Absolution_ and finally _Enterprise_. So did the Duros ships, except those still obeying Daar no matter what.

“Go, Princess,” Jade said.

Daari nodded. “Jump.”

Stars stretched out in the viewport and vanished.

* * *

The _Challenger_ had a weaker hyperdrive than the bigger Duros cruisers, and was weighted down by all the people they rescued before having to flee. So by the time they emerged at Duro, _Covenant_ was already there.

She did not look good. The hull was breached in several places, almost every weapon emplacement was a giant scorchmark, and the ship was kept from drifting by a pair of tractor beams from _Enterprise_ and _Absolution_. A comm came in, and Jade appeared in the projection. She was using a portable holotransmitter instead of the ship’s built-in systems, and when she zoomed out, a number of the crew were floating in mid-air, indicating the art-grav gave out.

Caruthers whistled. “Whoa.”

“Barest whiff of the blastback,” Jade explained. “Someone pulled the hyperdrive lever just a bit too late. Scouts have returned and confirmed, by the way. Nothing of either fleet remains, and the habitable moons are… not so habitable anymore.”

“It’s not real, is it?” Daari asked.

“The assassin? Quite real, as it turned out. There was an attempt. It did not succeed. Your father lives and he’s on his way here. There will be consequences, Princess.”

“We did what we needed to.”

“We shall see.”

* * *

“Thank you, Admiral Vanto.”

“Warriors’ fortune go with you, General Organa.” The strange human’s hologram vanished, and a moment later, the asteroid ship _Thrawn_, with the Star Destroyer _Tarkin’s Legacy_ clamped onto it (as a First Order ship, her hyperdrive was useless) disappeared into hyperspace. Leia drew a breath and pulled the datacard encoding the transmission from the datapad.

She handed it to Poe. “Last known dispositions of First Order occupation forces,” she informed him. “By the time they figured out _Legacy_ was captured, it was too chaotic for disassociation. Most of them have deployed the hyperspace blockers, too. Organize the liberation campaign as you wish.”

“General?”

“The Resistance is yours, now, _General_,” she said. “You do not need me. In fact, you do not want me. The galaxy will not be receptive to leadership by the daughter of Darth Vader and the mother of Kylo Ren. My Senate career proved as much.”

“What will you be doing?”

Nog answered the question. “The _Enterprise_ will be staying here. For now, she’s still too much power for our galaxy. I am going back, but Starfleet will be establishing a permanent presence. Plans are already underway. We’re calling it Deep Space Twelve.”

“A space station?”

“Large one,” Nog said. “It’s not intended as a colony or a point of exploitation, so the personnel will be mixed, right up to the senior command staff. Admiral Riker approved the provisional assignment. Admiral Ferraro will be the station commander, with General Leia as her XO.”

Captain–or, rather, _Admiral_ Ferraro turned her head in the bridge chair. “Sir? Are you serious?”

“You do not want this?”

“Of course I do! But… there is a personal matter.”

“Rose.” Lieutenant Commander Paige Tico drifted over from the science station.

“She’s family, even if she doesn’t think so. And if the way to avoid hurting her is to be absent, than that’s what we’ll do.”

“That is… not necessary, Mom. She… is used to me, at least, now. And you can see each other as much or as little as you want. Finn remains captain of _Absolution_, and she’s staying with him. I might ask for an assignment there too, if they decide they need me.”

“I’ll need to talk to Ro, but if she’s alright with it, or bringing Dale her, I’ll accept.”

“Which leaves us with the last decision to make,” Nog said.

Gazes crossed over the room. Leia knew she had to be the one to voice the issue. “Ben,” she said.


	36. Enterprise 14

“Look at you,” Blair sat down across from Ruffel. “_Major_ Daari. Congratulations.”

The Duros woman produced a cursory glance at her shoulder, where a silver square replaced the three triangles. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel. None of this would have happened without the war, and of course everyone is talking about nepotism–”

“Nepotism was the starting opportunity, you know that. And that eventually, you’ll outrank everyone. You can’t help that, Princess.”

“You are a strange bunch, Starfleet.”

“I haven’t been Starfleet for a long time, but I will take the compliment.”

“Can’t you go back, now that there’s contact with your Federation?”

“Again, I lived more of my life out of the Federation than in. And I haven’t left anything behind that I am desperate to return to. Why do you think I wasn’t on the _Vicksburg_ in the first place when they attempted it?”

“So what will you do?”

Caruthers smirked. “_Someone_ has been listening to me rant about the Lammo Hegemony.”

“There is no more Lammo Hegemony.”

“Indeed. Thanks to your father. There is a question of what to do with the planets and the people besides just declaring them part of the Kingdom. Like I said, _someone_ made sure the King heard how much I despise the Lammos for what they did to their own people. And the King decided I might be a good choice to fix that damage. Any idea who that might have been, Princess?”

Ruffel laughed. “Is the King wrong?”

“Maybe,” Caruthers answered. “Whoever is responsible, it’s work for decades to come. If you’re asking if I will take it… I will. I’ve been frustrated with Lammo–and frankly, with the New Republic for failing to do _something_ about it–for too long to actually miss out on the chance. I have every confidence I will leave things better than I found them, but that’s a very low bar. Eventually historians will decide whether I was the best choice. _Maybe_ by the time your grandchild is on the throne.”

“You think _that_ will happen? Or will the galaxy be plunged into another cataclysm?”

“Both can happen, you know. But yes, I do. I know a lot _about_ King Gelemod, and now I know his heir reasonably well. So what’s in your immediate future?”

“For now, executive officer of _Covenant_. Maybe we’ll even visit the Federation sometime.”

“Good for you. Lots of work… but it will be good to improve things for once rather than just holding back disasters.” She raised her glass. “To the Kingdom. To the Federation. To purging the memory of the Lammo Hegemony.”

* * *

Ben Solo woke up and jerked at the unfamiliar surroundings. He was no longer in a Federation brig, but in a bunk on an unfamiliar ship. Sitting next to the bed were his mother, Rey, and an elderly, though still spry, Togruta he didn’t know.

“What’s going on?”

“Technically, you’ve escaped custody,” Rey smirked. “As a guardian of peace and justice, my duty is to bring you in.”

“I’ve seen their security. Alerts everywhere.”

“We’ve… deceived them,” Leia said. “For a while, at least.”

“Why?”

“If you remain here, and submit to a Republic court, once there is a Republic again,” Leia answered, “you will almost certainly be executed. Especially since there’s talk of making Ryloth the first provisional capital.”

“Could you do something about it?”

“Probably. Would you want me to? Any prison is bound to have assassins, and you without the Force…”

“That is permanent, isn’t it?”

“I’m afraid so,” the Togruta spoke up. “Ahsoka Tano. I’ve gone through the same process thirty years ago, when the _Vicksburg_ first arrived in our galaxy. Accidental, in my case. I’ve routinely diagnosed myself since. Midichlorian count, zero.”

“Midichlorian?” Rey asked.

“Later,” Ahsoka said. “Another option is you can request asylum with the Federation. They have no death penalty, you’ll be in relative comfort, though monitored, and you will be among people with no reason to hate you.”

“Not much to do, though,” Rey said. “At least, that’s how I see it.”

“Which brings us to this alternative,” Leia said. “Ahsoka has been wandering the galaxy for decades, never staying in any one place, but taking opportunities to help the less fortunate. She’s willing to take you on as a companion.”

“Things are going to get difficult soon,” she warned. “Force withdrawal isn’t to be taken lightly. I’m the only one who really knows what it’s like.”

“I can forgive you, Ben,” Leia said. “But the galaxy isn’t even willing to forgive _me_, and I’m just a daughter of Vader, not the man himself.”

Ben nodded. “I understand.”

“This way, we can see each other every once in a while.”

“I’d like that. And I suppose, I’ll eventually be a clear object lesson to future Jedi you’ll be training?” he nodded at Rey.

“I didn’t think of that,” she admitted. “Maybe.”

“I suppose it is the best. Just… may I ask why?”

“Why what?”

He turned to Tano. “You have no reason to help me.”

She smiled. “Don’t be so sure. Your family has made me who I am.”

“What?” both Leia and Ben exclaimed. “You never told me anything.”

“In the rebellion, I didn’t know. From what I heard, _you_ didn’t know either. And then I was mostly out of touch.”

“Didn’t know what?”

“I was raised as a Jedi in the Old Republic,” she said. “And then I was made an apprentice… Padawan, we called them… to Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker.”

* * *

“Perfect,” Rey said after a long pause.

“You really think it’s a good idea?”

She nodded. “I feel it in the Force. And think about it. A mobile Jedi Academy solves so many problems. We can easily visit important sites of Jedi history, carry help anywhere, and retreat if there’s ever too big a threat. We can’t isolate ourselves. We are not apart or above the galaxy, we are part of it. And _Absolution_ was already a training vessel, so it’s easier to adapt than a captured Destroyer from a combat fleet.”

“And once we upgrade her with the warp drive, we can go transgalactic,” Paige Tico’s eyes gleamed. “Real exploration. Starfleet officers will be _clawing_ to serve here.”

“So the crew won’t be dominated by any one faction,” Rose nodded.

Finn’s comlink chirped. “Yes?”

“Sir, a visitor has requested to see you. She wants to enlist in the crew. Says she’ll accept any position, but, says, and I quote, ‘I am well-qualified for a post of high responsibility’.”

Rey and Finn glanced at each other, and then at the Ticos. “Interesting,” Rose said.

“Danger?” Finn asked.

“Don’t rely on me too much,” Rey cautioned. “I’m not a perfect sensor in this regard. But I don’t feel hostility now.”

The door opened, admitting their visitor. “General Jade!” Finn exclaimed.

“Not anymore, I’m afraid,” she said. “King Gelemod dismissed me from the Royal Duros Army.”

“But you were right!” Paige exclaimed. “Daar–”

“General Daar,” Jade corrected.

“–blew up himself, the First Order fleet, and half the system because he wouldn’t listen to you.”

“All true,” she acknowledged. “Daar would have been court-martialed had he lived. The problem is, _all_ the Duros fleet would have obeyed him over me, except _possibly_ the _Covenant_. He was the senior general. I needed orders from a higher authority, and we had no long-range comms with Duro. So I faked a report of the King’s death, and got Princess Ruffel to assume the role of Queen. I would be a hero of Duro if the King had really died. Probably would hold Daar’s job now. But King Gelemod is alive, and I cannot be trusted. This is the sort of deception you pull off once. No one is really happy–not me, not the King, and not the Princess. But I would really be a useless head of intelligence. The King would need to check every piece of information I give him. When you do that, you might as well put the people doing the checking in charge.”

“Right,” Finn said. “Why us?”

“First, the way Admiral Nog described it, you’ve got a very interesting endeavor going on here. I doubt I’d find anything of the sort as a private citizen on Duro. And second, apparently I have the potential to be a Jedi.”

“You do,” Rey said.

“Well, then I want to make something of it. I would never have time for such a commitment while still an officer of the Royal Duros Army. But I can now.”

“I’m not asking for a command position, or anything like that. I’d be willing to enlist as a tech specialist or even security grunt. But a good commanding officer should know his subordinates’ talents and not waste them.”

“You know, it’s odd. I haven’t _yet_ appointed an executive officer, and for now, we four,” he gestured, “are the senior crew. I’ve no doubt any of you _could_ do it, but you’re also much better off where you are now. Rose in engineering, Paige doing the science, and Rey with the Jedi stuff. And here you show up.”

“It might be the will of the Force.”

“That’s not how the Force works!” Rose and Finn exclaimed at once.

“Sorry, guys. You’re wrong on that one,” Rey smiled. “Welcome aboard, Mara Jade. That’s _exactly_ how the Force works.”


	37. Epilogue

Cindy sor Valetta walked down the settlement’s main throughway hand in hand with her husband. “Did we do the right thing?”

“You won’t renege now, dear. Why torment yourself?”

“Funny. We know what’s to come, and none of the decisions are any easier.”

Rieekan considered. “I’m not exactly thrilled, either.”

“Particularly with all the snark. If I hear someone call me ‘Majesty’ one more time…”

She stopped. “Something wrong?”

“I don’t believe it.”

“What?”

“_We_ didn’t build that.”

“‘The Captain’s Table’, the Alliance general read. "No… what is it?”

“You can see it?”

“Yeah. Looks like everything else we improvised here. But no, from the plans I recall, there’s nothing there.”

“You must have had a ship command sometime,” she said. “Before we met.”

“I did. _Crevasse City_. We had to scrap her after Scarif.”

“Well, then we can go in together.” She smiled. “I’m not sure what we’ll find.”

What she found as soon as they entered was a tight embrace. “Cindy!” Thanya Ferraro exclaimed. “We won!”

“Hi,” Blair Caruthers said, with Princess Ruffel by her side as before.

“I don’t understand.”

The two members of her old crew, now captains in their own right, turned heads. “We’ve spoken.”

“This is my first time at the Table since we’ve left our galaxy,” sor Valetta said.

“Why are you surprised?” A Ferengi strode up. “Admiral Nog, Captain. You know time doesn’t flow the same way everywhere even in normal space. And the Table is a force all its own. If you’ve met Cindy here, that doesn’t mean she met you. Yet.”

“Quite right,” someone else approached. “These guys tend to be circumspect with me, which makes me think they know something of my future. But the owner won’t let me know. Frustrating–”

“Han Solo,” Rieekan said. “If anyone can circumvent the rules…”

“So do we get to hear what happened to you?” Ferarro asked. “I mean, after our experiment went awry thanks to Voss Torel.”

Cindy and Carlist exchanged a look. “We’d better,” she said. “This needs a stiff drink, though. "Tequila, I think.”

A glass quickly appeared in her hand. “After the surge wrecked our tractor beam projector, severing our hold on the _McPherson_ with you aboard, the _Vicksburg_ lost control for a little…”

* * *

Ruby Blake felt a jolt and flung open her eyes. She shivered as she realized that her uniform was soaking wet with icy water, as was her face, hair, and half body.

A loud splash from her right caused her to turn, and instinctively try to leap forward. Both her legs and arms were restrained though, preventing her from attacking Voss Torel. The Imperial agent tossed aside a bucket and looked down as Ahsoka Tano, just as wet as her, stirred into consciousness.

“Wake up, you idiots,” he greeted. “I know you can escape, but it will take you a few seconds, which gives me the opportunity to bring our predicament to your attention.” He pointed forward. Blake realized they were in the main lounge of the _Vicksburg_, which was the only common space onboard to have an actual viewport.

“We’re deorbiting,” Blake said.

“Power’s out on this rustbucket. So is most of the crew. Now, I’m certain that if dear Captain sor Valetta was here, she’d be thrilled to know I’m aboard and am about to die.”

“That’s—”

He laughed. “Your captain has a death wish. Everything she did here says so. Enough. _I_ don’t have a death wish, so rebel scum or not, we’re on the same side.”

“Ever consider being more polite?” Ahsoka snapped.

“Honesty over manners, Jedi Tano,” he retorted. “I want to use the Force to slow down the ship’s descent so it isn’t destroyed in the crash. Two people working together have a better chance than one—so that’s what you’re here for. Three would have been better, but your _misfortune_ is not a mystery to me, despite your attempts. Still, you may be able to instruct her better than I.”

“And if we refuse?” Blake demanded.

“You’re Jedi. You won’t.”

“I’m no Jedi.”

He didn’t bother with words, and only looked at Ahsoka. “Better decide quick. We’re almost at the atmosphere.”

“You expect us to do it while tied up?”

“So you are in?”

“Fine,” Blake grunted. “You’re wrong about the captain, and I’m certainly not going to sacrifice the whole crew just to kill you.”

“Thank you,” Torel hissed out slowly, before activating the lightsaber embedded in his prosthetic and making two strokes to cut the Jedi’s restraints. Ahsoka rose, stretched out and then motioned for the other two to approach the viewport.

They sat down on the deck, cross-legged, in a circle and joined hands. Blake expected a turmoil of nasty emotions to emanate from Torel, but instead, was barely able to register his presence. He was suppressing things, and in another surprise, she actually felt Ahsoka’s thoughts, though they were much hazier than Torel’s. Still, they could get the sense of direction from her, and Ruby and Torel poured their own strength together and strained to make the fall slower.

Fire blazed outside the viewport as the _Vicksburg_‘s altitude turned to heat. The ice water in which the Imperial soaked them quickly stopped producing shivers and was soon joined by warm sweat form all three of them. It wasn’t just that, absent life support, the outside heat was heating up the inside; the nearly constant employment of the Force was work, taking its tall on the three of them. No one talked, no one dared make a breath out of sync from the others.

“About to impact!” Ruby gasped out as her connection with the Force tingled from the ground approaching. Stupid, really. Both her companions, with their vastly greater experience, would have felt it long before she did.

The crash made them all lose balance and roll about on the deck. The motion continued, but far less smooth as _Vicksburg_ wrecked various obstacles while sliding across the ground at more than a hundred clicks per hour.

Ruby rose to look around when the viewport shattered, shards flying everywhere, and a tree trunk sped across the lounge. She barely had time to see where it was going, cried out “No!” and lifted her hand to push the former Jedi out of the way…

Too late. Ahsoka, more exhausted than the other two, and without access to the Force, couldn’t react in time either. The tree smashed her body and kept going before plastering her against the bulkhead, producing an explosion of blood and flesh, some of it splattering on her.

The ship lost all its momentum twenty seconds later. Tears, sweat, and blood mixing on her face, Ruby rose once more and, with an absurd hope, walked across the tilting deck to Ahsoka’s body. An arm was sticking out from under the tree trunk. She felt it. No pulse. She pulled, and it came out, severed above the elbow.

Catching a movement with her peripheral vision, she leapt up. Torel was standing next to the broken viewport, looking outside. Sunlight, splotchy because it was coming through a canopy of leaves, filled the _Vicksburg_’s lounge. More trees rose ahead of them.

“Where the hell were you?” Blake demanded. “You saw that tree coming! You could have saved her!”

“I didn’t see it in time.”

And he was lying. She didn’t know what made her certain—the Force, probably. Certainly not her own mind; she _wanted_ very much for his failure to save Ahsoka to be a case of bad luck and not a choice she’d just seen him make. But Imperial to the last, he treated Ahsoka exactly as you would expect to treat an enemy. Kill them as soon as their use to you was done.

A lightsaber found its way into her hand almost of its own accord. Igniting it, she marched towards Torel in fury. He only shook his head.

“I’m afraid this will have to wait,” he said, and jumped out the viewport. She heard a rustling impact below, but by the time she got close enough to look down, he was gone. She tried feeling the Force. Lots of life, but nothing specifically Torel.

When the tractor beam connection between the two ships had snapped, the shock made almost all the crew lose consciousness—as, in fact, Ahsoka and Ruby had, having been forced out of it by Torel’s intervention. As the rest of them woke up and began organizing, eventually, Ruby was found by Evaan Verlaine, sobbing over what remained of Ahsoka.

Ruby didn’t remember that. Evaan silently pulled her into an embrace and let her collapse in grief and fatigue before picking her up and carrying her to sickbay.

* * *

“Nine hundred and fifty-seven remaining,” Raya summarized. “Lost eighty-five.”

“Any hope of fixing her?” Captain sor Valetta pointed at the _Vicksburg_ lying on her side with a kilometer-long stretch of mowed-down forest behind.

“Not likely,” Rieekan commented with a sad smile. “Even if this planet has a working shipyard, which doesn’t seem likely, all of us together can’t drag it.”

“How’s Ruby?”

“Still in an induced coma. Dr. Shar insists on at least another day before trying to restore consciousness. Verlaine refuses to leave her bedside.”

“Let her,” sor Valetta said. “Shipyard, hell—what _do_ we know about this planet?”

“Pretty much what we see right now, unfortunately,” Raya said. “The sensors were down during descent; I can’t even tell you if we’re on a continent, a large island, or a landmass covering the whole planet.”

“No working shuttles?”

“Wrecked in the crash.”

Cindy signed. “Carlist… this is going to come up if we’re stuck here. With the ship gone, there’s no basis for my being in charge. Not everyone here is part of my crew, and in the Alliance, you outrank me.”

Raya snorted. “Is this really the time, _your majesties_?”

That produced several laughs. “If we contact either the Alliance or the Federation,” Rieekan said, “it will be moot. If we can’t, we’ll need to organize on a new basis anyway.”

Raya and Cindy exchanged looks when the general mentioned the Federation. “You think we could be back in our galaxy?” the security chief asked.

“We’re not,” a new voice interrupted.

“Lieutenant Deeta?”

“Yes, ma'am,” the Rodian approached. “I’ve found where we are.”

“How?”

“Astromech droids. One we had got a small glimpse during our fall, and I’ve had them observe the star patterns last night. It’s not as complete a picture as we would get from orbit—”

“But you got enough?”

“Yes. First—we’re still in our galaxy.”

Raya sighed. “Oh, well.”

“Second, the star pattern produced no exact matches, although one location came close.”

“We’re in an unknown system, then?” Rieekan concluded.

“No, General. From no location in our galaxy can you actually observe this pattern. That’s why it took me so long—I had to get the search parameters right to understand what was happening. And then I didn’t believe the answer I got, so I ran the data again.”

“And you got the same answer.”

Deeta nodded. “You’re not going to believe me, either. The astrogational data says we’re on Coruscant.”

Rieekan managed to suppress a burst of laughter. Sor Valetta, with neither personal experience nor cultural context to associate with the name, merely raised her eyebrows. “Doesn’t look like the holos I’ve seen,” Raya stated flatly.

“I still don’t understand,” sor Valetta said. “I thought you discovered _no_ location is like this?”

“Not on the current charts. But stars move, so these patterns change over time.”

The captain’s eyes instantly flung open. “I don’t like where this is going.”

“Yes, but to be noticeable, it has to be a _long_ time,” Raya said.

Deeta nodded. “And this explains everything. We _are_ on Coruscant. Coruscant as it was _SIXTY THOUSAND YEARS AGO_.”

“You’re saying we traveled back in time? That’s impossible.”

It was sor Valetta who had to suppress laughter. “Oh, it’s very possible. And you know what—if I we had the _Vicksburg_ operational, I’d get us back.”

“But we’re not going to get the _Vicksburg_ operational,” Deeta said.

“What makes you so certain?”

“While we were in the void,” Deeta softly began, and sor Valetta inwardly cursed herself. No one wanted to relieve those dreadful months. “I’ve been reading through your libraries. Histories, entertainment, science… and right there in the open was the answer to a great mystery.”

“What?”

“One with a lot of speculation behind it and very little data. The origin of Humans in our galaxy. Historical records made it clear that it was somewhere in the Core, with Coruscant, Alderaan, and Corellia being the most common contenders. Or the ones with the loudest partisans.”

“But you said there wasn’t much data.”

“Alderaan and Corellia have archeological sites of about the same age. Everything on Coruscant is buried. But there is no evidence of actual Human evolution on any of them. And now it’s clear why.” Deeta sounded animated now. “I could never have published anything of the sort under the Empire.”

“As a Rodian commenting on human history?” Raya asked.

“And the very premise,” Deeta answered. “That Humans didn’t evolve on any planet in _this_ galaxy. They evolved in yours. On Earth.”

“That’s not news to anyone here,” Blake said.

“It was to me, and the evidence was beyond anything any candidate planet here had. The fossil finds. The DNA reconstructions. The fauna of your homeworld, with creatures like chimpanzees, gorillas, and orangutans still extant only two centuries ago.”

Tears welled up in both womens’ eyes. “There’s a reminder I didn’t expect,” sor Valetta said.

“The lack of evidence was why Coruscant was the most commonly held opinion. But it was still just an opinion. Until now. Now it’s fact.”

“But you just said humans _didn’t_ evolve on Coruscant,” Raya protested.

“They didn’t. But in this galaxy, Coruscant _is_ the human homeworld. Or rather, it will be.”

The realization hit first the captain and then, almost simultaneously, both Raya and Rieekan. “OH…” they said in unison. “OH.”

“That’s why you say we won’t restore the _Vicksburg_ and leave. That would change the past. We _are_ the past.”

* * *

“What did the captain say that got you all teared up?” Verlaine asked as she and Ruby got ready for the night. They’d been on the planet two days now, and this afternoon, sor Valetta gathered the entire crew, praised them for their hard work, and then informed them of Deeta’s discovery and what it entailed. The discussion on the implication of their time travel had lasted for hours afterwards, despite that for most Stafleet officers, it was well-treaded ground.

“Oh. The apes.” Ruby had to control herself to keep from crying again. Verlaine saw that many Earth natives had trouble containing their sorrow at a very specific point in sor Valetta’s speech that didn’t seem all that unusual to her.

“The what?”

“Great apes. A couple of species very closely related to humans—diverged between five and ten million years ago. And now they’re all gone. We killed them.”

“What do you mean?”

“We as in humans. It’s been going on for centuries… habitat destruction, outright hunting… not a proud chapter in Earth’s history. By the time enough people saw the danger and took action, there were too few of them left to survive unassisted. Then World War III happened, and the assistance stopped.”

Ruby pulled out her PADD and showed her girlfriend several flat images of large hairy primates. “After Zephram Cochrane and First Contact, there were proposals to use cloning and other techniques to recreate the apes. Forbidding this was one of the first acts of the United Earth government.”

“Why?”

“So that the impact would last and remain for the future generations. ‘Oh, we can just fix our mistakes.’ No. Not all of them. Seems to work—even generations later, as you saw today. It certainly impacted me when I had that lesson in school.”

“And that law is still in force?”

“Oh, you get repeal proposals every fifty years or so—and the arguments made at the time are rehashed. But I think there’s a general consensus that even if we do it, the creatures we make won’t _be_ the apes. They’ll be artificial constructs made by us for us—and presenting them as anything else will simply be fraud. If you want the visual experience, there are holodecks—and being aware it’s not real is another reminder.”

“You are very unusual,” Verlaine said. “Well, you personally are—but so are your people. Many would just declare that they are not responsible for what their ancestors did and leave it at that.”

“Responsible? No. But we must not repeat their mistakes, and for that, we must know what they were—and, since we are not Vulcans for whom logic is sufficient, we must _feel_ those mistakes. Funnily,” she commented off-hand, “I’ve never seen anyone deliberately distance themselves from any _triumphs_ of their ancestors.”

She looked up into the night sky. “I’m still looking for the constellations I learned as girl—and of course, failing.”

Verlaine reached around her from behind. “If this is where it all begins… will you continue learning about the Force? Are you the first Jedi?”

“Not much of one.”

“It’s alright,” she whispered. “Torel isn’t much of a Sith.”

**Author's Note:**

> I am crossposting this to FFN, TheForce.net, and AlternateHistory.com. Please do not report as plagiarism.


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